 Book 1. CHAPTER I. OF THE HISTORY OF THE CONQUEST OF MEXICO. Book 1. INTRODUCTION. VIEW OF THE ASTEX CIVILIZATION. CHAPTER I. ANCIENT MEXICO. IT'S CLIMATE AND IT'S PRODUCTS. IT'S PRIMITIVE RACES. ASTECH IMPIRE. The country of the ancient Mexicans, or Aztecs as they were called, formed but a very small part of the extensive territories comprehended in the modern Republic of Mexico. Its boundaries cannot be defined with certainty. They were much enlarged in the latter days of the empire when they may be considered as reaching from about the 18th degree north to the 21st on the Atlantic and from the 14th to the 19th, including a very narrow strip on the Pacific. In its greatest breadth, it could not exceed five degrees and a half, dwindling as it approached its southeastern limits to less than two. It covered probably less than 16,000 square leagues. Yet, such is the remarkable formation of this country that though not more than twice as large as New England, it presented every variety of climate and was capable of yielding nearly every fruit found between the equator and the Arctic Circle. All along the Atlantic, the country is bordered by a broad tract called the Tierra Caliente, or hot region, which has the usual high temperature of equinoxial lands. Parched and sandy plains are intermingled with others of exuberant fertility, almost impervious from thickets of aromatic shrubs and wild flowers, in the midst of which tower up trees of that magnificent growth, which is found only within the tropics. In this wilderness of sweets lurks the fatal malaria engendered probably by the decomposition of rank vegetable substances in a hot and humid soil. The season of the bilious fever, vomito, as it is called, which scourges these coasts, continues from the spring to the autumnal equinox when it is checked by the cold winds which descend from Hudson Bay. These winds, in the winter season, frequently freshen into tempests, and sweeping down the Atlantic coast and the winding gulf of Mexico, burst with the fury of a hurricane on its unprotected shores and on the neighboring West India Islands. Such are the mighty spells with which nature has surrounded this land of enchantment as if to guard the golden treasures locked up within its bosom. The genius and enterprise of man have proved more potent than her spells. After passing some twenty leagues across this burning region, the traveller finds himself rising into a purer atmosphere. His limbs recover their elasticity. He breathes more freely, for his senses are not now oppressed by the sultry heats and intoxicating perfumes of the valley. The aspect of nature too has changed, and his eye no longer revels among the gay variety of colors with which the landscape was painted there. The vanilla, the indigo, and the flowering cocoa groves appear as he advances. The sugarcane and the glossy leaf banana still accompany him, and when he has ascended about four thousand feet he sees in the unchanging verjure and the rich foliage of the liquid ambrotry that he has reached the height where clouds and mists settle in their passage from the Mexican Gulf. This is the region of perpetual humidity, but he welcomes it with pleasure as announcing his escape from the influence of the deadly vomito. He has entered the Tierra Templada, or temperate region, whose character resembles that of the temperate zone of the globe. The features of the scenery become grand and even terrible. His road sweeps along the base of mighty mountains, once gleaming with volcanic fires and still resplendent in their mantles of snow, which serve as beacons to the mariner for many a league at sea. All around he beholds traces of their ancient combustion, as his road passes along vast tracts of lava, bristling in the innumerable, fantastic forms into which the fiery torrent has been thrown by the obstacles in its career. Perhaps at the same moment as he casts his eye down some steep slope or almost unfathomable ravine on the margin of the road he sees their depths glowing with the rich blooms and enameled vegetation of the tropics. Such are the singular contrasts presented at the same time to the senses in this picturesque region. Still, pressing upwards, the traveler mounts into other climates favorable to other kinds of cultivation. The yellow maize, or Indian corn as we usually call it, has continued to follow him up from the lowest level, but he now first sees fields of wheat and the other European grains brought into the country by the conquerors. Mingled with them, he views the plantations of the aloe, or mague, agave americana, applied to such various and important uses by the Aztecs. The oaks now acquire a sturdier growth, and the dark forests of pine announce that he has entered the Tierra Fría, or cold region, the third and last of the great natural terraces into which the country is divided. When he has climbed to the height of between seven and eight thousand feet, the weary traveler sets his foot on the summit of the Cordillera of the Andes, the colossal range that, after traversing South America and the ithmos of Darien, spreads out, as it enters Mexico, into that vast sheet of table land which maintains an elevation of more than six thousand feet, for the distance of nearly two hundred leagues, until it gradually declines in the higher latitudes of the north. Across the mountain rampart, a chain of volcanic hills stretches, in a westerly direction, of still more stupendous dimensions, forming, indeed, some of the highest land on the globe. Their peaks, entering the limits of perpetual snow, diffuse a grateful coolness over the elevated plateaus below. For these last, though termed cold, enjoy a climate, the mean temperature of which is not lower than that of the central parts of Italy. The air is exceedingly dry. The soil, though naturally good, is rarely clothed with the luxuriant vegetation of the lower regions. It frequently, indeed, has a parched and barren aspect, owing partly to the greater evaporation which takes place on these lofty plains, through the diminished pressure of the atmosphere, and partly, no doubt, to the want of trees to shelter the soil from the fierce influence of the summer sun. In the time of the Aztecs, the table land was thickly covered with larch, oak, cypress, and other forest trees. The extraordinary dimensions of some of which, remaining to the present day, show that the curse of barrenness in later times is chargeable more on man than on nature. Indeed, the early Spaniards made as indiscriminate war on the forests as did our Puritan ancestors, though with much less reason. After once conquering the country, they had no lurking ambush to fear from the submissive, semi-civilized Indian, and were not, like our forefathers, obliged to keep watch and ward for a century. This spoiliation of the ground, however, is said to have been pleasing to their imaginations, as it reminded them of the plains of their own Castile, the table land of Europe, where the nakedness of the landscape forms the burden of every traveller's lament who visits the country. Midway across the continent, somewhat nearer the Pacific than the Atlantic Ocean, at an elevation of nearly 7,500 feet, is the celebrated Valley of Mexico. It is of an oval form, about 67 leagues in circumference, and is encompassed by a towering rampart of porphyritic rock, which nature seems to have provided, though ineffectually, to protect it from invasion. The soil, once carpeted with a beautiful vergeure, and thickly sprinkled with stately trees, is often bare, and in many places white with the incrustation of salts, caused by the draining of the waters. Five lakes are spread over the valley, occupying one tenth of its surface. On the opposite borders of the largest of these basins, much shrunk in its dimension since the days of the Aztecs, stood the cities of Mexico and Tezcuco, the capitals of the two most potent and flourishing states of Anauac, whose history, with that of the mysterious races that preceded them in the country, exhibits some of the nearest approaches to civilization to be met with, anciently, on the North American continent. Of these races the most inspicuous were the Toltecs. Advancing from a northerly direction, but from what region is uncertain, they entered the territory of Anauac, probably before the close of the seventh century. Of course little can be gleaned with certainty, respecting a people whose written records have perished, and who are known to us only through the traditionary legends of the nations that succeeded them. By the general agreement of these, however, the Toltecs were well instructed in agriculture, and many of the most useful mechanic arts, were nice workers of metals, invented the complex arrangement of time adopted by the Aztecs, and in short, were the true fountains of the civilization which distinguished this part of the continent in later times. They established their capital at Tula, north of the Mexican valley, and the remains of extensive buildings were to be discerned there at the time of the conquest. The noble ruins of religious and other edifices, still to be seen in various parts of New Spain, are referred to this people, whose name, Toltec, has passed into a synonym for architect. Their shadowy history reminds us of those primitive races who preceded the ancient Egyptians in the march of civilization, fragments of whose monuments, as they are seen at this day, incorporated with the buildings of the Egyptians themselves, give to these latter the appearance of almost modern constructions. After a period of four centuries, the Toltecs, who had extended their sway over the remotest borders of Anahuac, having been greatly reduced to descend by famine, pestilence, and unsuccessful wars, disappeared from the land as silently and mysteriously as they had entered it. A few of them still lingered behind, but much the greater number probably spread over the region of Central America and the neighboring isles, and the traveler now speculates on the majestic ruins of Mitla and Palenque as possibly the work of this extraordinary people. After the lapse of another hundred years, a numerous and rude tribe called the Chichemex entered the deserted country from the regions of the far northwest. They were speedily followed by other races of higher civilization, perhaps of the same family with the Toltecs, whose language they appear to have spoken. The most noted of these were the Aztecs, or Mexicans, and the Acohuans. The latter, better known in later times by the name of Tescucans from their capital, Tescuco, on the eastern border of the Mexican Lake, were peculiarly fitted by their comparatively mild religion and manners for receiving the tincture of civilization which could be derived from the few Toltecs that still remained in the country. This, in their turn, they communicated to the barbarous Chichemex, a large portion of which became amalgamated with the new settlers as one nation. Avaling themselves of the strength derived not only from the increase of numbers, but from their own superior refinement, the Acohuans gradually stretched their empire over the rude tribes in the north, while their capital was filled with a numerous population, busily employed in many of the more useful and even elegant arts of a civilized community. In this Palmy state they were suddenly assaulted by a warlike neighbor, the Tepanics, their own kindred and inhabitants of the same valley as themselves. Their provinces were overrun, their armies beaten, their king assassinated, and the flourishing city of Tescuco became the prize of the victor. From this abject condition the uncommon abilities of the young prince, Nezawa Colliotol, the rightful heir to the crown, backed by the efficient aid of his Mexican allies at length redeemed the state and opened to it a new career of prosperity, even more brilliant than the former. The Mexicans, with whom our history is principally concerned, came also, as we have seen, from the remote regions of the north, the populous hive of nations in the new world, as it has been in the old. They arrived on the borders of Anahuac towards the beginning of the 13th century, sometime after the occupation of the land by the kindred races. For a long time they did not establish themselves in any permanent residence, but continued shifting their quarters to different parts of the Mexican valley, enduring all the casualties and hardships of a migratory life. On one occasion they were enslaved by a more powerful tribe, but their ferocity soon made them formidable to their masters. After a series of wanderings and adventures, which need not shrink from comparison with the most extravagant legends of the heroic ages of antiquity, they, at length, halted on the southwestern borders of the principal lake in the year 1325. They there beheld perched on the stem of a prickly pear, which shot out from the crevice of a rock that was washed by the waves, a royal eagle of extraordinary size and beauty, with a serpent and his talons, and his broad wings open to the rising sun. They hailed the auspicious omen, announced by an oracle as indicating the sight of their future city, and laid its foundations by sinking piles into the shallows, for the low marshes were half buried under water. On these they erected their light fabrics of reeds and rushes, and sought a precarious subsistence from fishing and from the wild fowl which frequented the waters, as well as from the cultivation of such simple vegetables as they could raise on their floating gardens. The place was called Tenochtilan, though only known to Europeans by its other name of Mexico, derived from their war god Mexitli. The legend of its foundation is still further commemorated by the device of the eagle and the cactus, which formed the arms of the modern Mexican Republic. Such were the humble beginnings of the Venice of the Western World. The forlorn condition of the new settlers was made still worse by domestic feuds. A part of the citizens seceded from the main body and formed a separate community on the neighboring marshes. Thus divided it was long before they could aspire to the acquisition of territory on the mainland. They gradually increased, however, in number, and strengthened themselves yet more by various improvements in their polity and military discipline, while they established a reputation for courage as well as cruelty in war, which made their name terrible throughout the valley. In the early part of the 15th century, nearly a hundred years from the foundation of the city, an event took place which created an entire revolution in the circumstances and, to some extent, in the character of the Aztecs. This was the subversion of the Texcucan monarchy by the tepanex already noticed. When the oppressive conduct of the victors had at length aroused a spirit of resistance, its prince, Nezawa Calliotto, succeeded after incredible perils and escapes in mustering such a force as, with the aid of the Mexicans, placed him on a level with his enemies. In two successive battles these were defeated with great slaughter. Their chief slain and their territory, by one of those sudden reverses, which characterize the wars of petty states, passed into the hands of the conquerors. It was awarded to Mexico, in return for its important services. Then was formed that remarkable league, which indeed has no parallel in history. It was agreed between the states of Mexico, Tezcuco, and the neighboring little kingdom of Tlacopan, that they should mutually support each other in their wars, offensive and defensive, and that, in the distribution of the spoil, one fifth should be assigned to Tlacopan, and the remainder be divided in what proportion is uncertain between the other powers. The Tezcucan writers claim an equal share for their nation with the Aztecs. But this does not seem to be warranted by the immense increase of territory subsequently appropriated by the latter. And we may account for any advantage conceded to them by the treaty on the supposition that, however inferior they may have been originally, they were at the time of making it in a more prosperous condition than their allies, broken and dispirited by long oppression. What is more extraordinary than the treaty itself, however, is the fidelity with which it was maintained. During a century of uninterrupted warfare that ensued, no instance occurred where the parties quarreled over the division of the spoil, which so often makes shipwreck of similar confederacies among civilized states. The allies for some time found sufficient occupation for their arms in their own valley, but they soon over-leaped its rocky ramparts, and by the middle of the 15th century, under the first Montezuma, had spread down the sides of the table and to the borders of the Gulf of Mexico. Tecnotitlan, the Aztec capital, gave evidence of the public prosperity. Its frail tenements were supplanted by solid structures of stone and lime. Its population rapidly increased. Its old feuds were healed. The citizens who had seceded were again brought under a common government with the body, and the quarter they occupied was permanently connected with the parent city, the dimensions of which covering the same ground were much larger than those of the modern capital. Fortunately, the throne was filled by a succession of able princes who knew how to profit by their enlarged resources and by the martial enthusiasm of the nation. Year after year saw them return, loaded with the spoils of conquered cities and with throngs of devoted captives to their capital. No state was able long to resist the accumulated strength of the Confederates. At the beginning of the 16th century, just before the arrival of the Spaniard, the Aztec Dominion reached across the continent from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and under the bold and bloody Wieseltel. Its arms had been carried far over the limits already noticed as defining its permanent territory into the farthest corners of Guatemala and Nicaragua. This extent of empire, however limited in comparison with that of many other states, is truly wonderful, considering it as the acquisition of a people whose whole population and resources had so recently been comprised within the walls of their own petty city, and considering, moreover, that the conquered territory was thickly settled by various races, bred to arms like the Mexicans and little inferior to them in social organization. The history of the Aztecs suggests some strong points of resemblance to that of the ancient Romans, not only in their military successes, but in the policy which led to them. End of Chapter 1 from Book 1 of the History of the Conquest of Mexico. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Dennis Sayers History of the Conquest of Mexico, by William H. Prescott Book 1, Chapter 2 Succession to the Crown Aztec nobility Judicial History of the Conquest of Mexico History of the Conquest of Mexico History of the Conquest of Mexico History of the Conquest of Mexico Succession to the Crown Aztec nobility Judicial system Laws and revenues Military institutions The form of government differed in the different states of Anhuac. With the Aztecs and Tuscucans, it was monarchical and nearly absolute. I shall direct my inquiries to the Mexican polity borrowing and illustration occasionally from that of the rival kingdom. The government was an elective monarchy. Four of the principal nobles, who had been chosen by their own body in the preceding reign, filled the office of electors, to whom were added, with merely an honorary rank, however, the two royal allies of Tuscucco and Tlacopan. The sovereign was selected from the brothers of the deceased prince, or, in default of them, from his nephews. Thus the election was always restricted to the same family. The candidate preferred must have distinguished himself in war, though as in the case of the last Montezuma, he were a member of the priesthood. This singular mode of supplying the throne had some advantages. The candidates received an education which fitted them for the royal dignity, while the age at which they were chosen not only secured the nation against the evils of minority, but afforded ample means for estimating their qualifications for the office. The result, at all events, was favorable. Since the throne, as already noticed, was filled by a succession of able princes, well qualified to rule over a warlike and ambitious people. The scheme of election, however defective, argues a more refined and calculating policy than was to have been expected from a barbarous nation. The new monarch was installed in his regal dignity with much parade of religious ceremony, but not until, by a victorious campaign, he had obtained a sufficient number of captives to grace his triumphal entry into the capital, and to furnish victims for the dark and bloody rites which stained the Aztec superstition. Amidst this pomp of human sacrifice he was crowned. The crown, resembling a mitre in its form, and curiously ornamented with gold, gems, and feathers, was placed on his head by the Lord of Tescuco, the most powerful of his royal allies. The title of king, by which the earlier Aztec princes are distinguished by Spanish writers, is supplanted by that of emperor in the later reigns, intimating, perhaps, his superiority over the monarchies of Placopan and Tescuco. The Aztec princes, especially towards the close of the dynasty, lived in a barbaric pomp, truly oriental. Their spacious palaces were provided with halls for the different councils, who aided the monarch in the transaction of business. The chief of these was a sort of privy council, composed, in part, probably, of the four electors chosen by the nobles after the accession, whose places, when made vacant by death, were immediately supplied as before. It was the business of this body, so far as can be gathered, from the very loose accounts given of it, to advise the king in respect to the government of the provinces, the administration of the revenues, and indeed on all great matters of public interest. In the royal buildings were accommodations, also, for a numerous bodyguard of the sovereign, made up of the chief nobility. It is not easy to determine with precision, in these barbarian governments, the limits of the several orders. It is certain there was a distinct class of nobles, with large landed possessions, who held the most important offices near the person of the prince, and engrossed the administration of the provinces and cities. Many of these could trace their descent from the founders of the Aztec monarchy. According to some writers of authority, there were thirty great Caciques, who had their residents, at least a part of the year, in the capital, and who could muster a hundred thousand vassals, each on their estates. Without relying on such wild statements, it is clear from the testimony of the conquerors, that the country was occupied by numerous powerful chieftains, who lived like independent princes on their domains. If it be true that the kings encouraged, or indeed exacted, the residents of these nobles in the capital, and required hostages in their absence, it is evident that their power must have been very formidable. Their estates appear to have been held by various tenures, and to have been subject to different restrictions. Some of them, earned by their own good swords, or received as the recompense of public services, were held without any limitation, except that the possessors could not dispose of them to a plebeian. Others were entailed on the eldest male issue, and in default of such reverted to the crown. Most of them seemed to have been burdened with the obligation of military service. The principal chiefs of Tescuco, according to its chronicler, were expressly obliged to support their prince with their armed vassals, to attend his court, and aid him in the council. Some, instead of these services, were to provide for the repairs of his buildings, and to keep the royal domains in order, with an annual offering, by way of homage, of fruits and flowers. It was usual for a new king on his accession to confirm the investiture of estates derived from the crown. It cannot be denied that we recognize in all this several features of the feudal system, which, no doubt, lose nothing of their effect under the hands of the Spanish writers, who are fond of tracing analogies to European institutions. But such analogies lead sometimes to very erroneous conclusions. The obligation of military service, for instance, the most essential principle of a fife, seems to be naturally demanded by every government from its subjects. As to minor points of resemblance, they fall far short of that harmonious system of reciprocal service and protection, which embraced, in nice gradation, every order of a feudal monarchy. The kingdoms of Anuac were, in their nature, despotic, attended, indeed, with many mitigating circumstances unknown to the despotisms of the East. But it is comarical to look for much in common beyond a few accidental forms and ceremonies with those aristocratic institutions of the Middle Ages, which made the court of every petty baron the precise image in miniature of that of his sovereign. The legislative power, both in Mexico and Texcucco, resided wholly with the monarch. This feature of despotism, however, was in some measure counteracted by the constitution of the judicial tribunals of more importance among the rude people than the legislative, since it is easier to make good laws for such a community than to enforce them. And the best laws, badly administered, are but a mockery. Over each of the principal cities, with its dependent territories, was placed a supreme judge appointed by the crown, with original and final jurisdiction in both civil and criminal cases. There was no appeal from his sentence to any other tribunal, nor even to the king. He held his office during life, and anyone who usurped his ensigns was punished with death. Below this magistrate was a court established in each province, and consisting of three members. It held concurrent jurisdiction with the supreme judge in civil suits, but in criminal an appeal lay to his tribunal. Besides these courts, there was a body of inferior magistrates distributed through the country, chosen by the people themselves in their several districts. Their authority was limited to smaller causes, while the more important were carried up to the higher courts. There was still another class of subordinate officers appointed also by the people, each of whom was to watch over the conduct of a certain number of families, and report any disorder or breach of the laws to the higher authorities. In Tescucco, the judicial arrangements were of a more refined character, and a gradation of tribunals finally terminated in a general meeting or parliament, consisting of all the judges great and petty throughout the kingdom. Held every eighty days in the capital, over which the king presided in person. This body determined all suits, which, from their importance or difficulty, had been reserved for its consideration by the lower tribunals. It served, moreover, as a council of state to assist the monarch in the transaction of public business. Such are the vague and imperfect notices that can be gleaned, respecting the Aztec tribunals, from the hieroglyphical paintings still preserved, and from the most accredited Spanish riders. These, being usually ecclesiastics, have taken much less interest in this subject than in matters connected with religion. They find some apology, certainly, in the early destruction of most of the Indian paintings, from which their information was, in part, to be gathered. On the whole, however, it must be inferred that the Aztecs were sufficiently civilized to invent a solicitude for the rights both of property and of persons. The law, authorizing an appeal to the highest judicature in criminal matters only, shows an attention to personal security, rendered the more obligatory by the extreme severity of their penal code, which would naturally have made them more cautious of a wrong conviction. The existence of a number of co-ordinate tribunals, without a central one of supreme authority to control the whole, must have given rise to very discordant interpretations of law in different districts, an evil which they shared in common with most of the nations of Europe. The provision for making the superior judges wholly independent of the crown was worthy of an enlightened people. It presented the strongest barrier that a mere constitution could afford against tyranny. It is not, indeed, to be supposed that, in a government otherwise so despotic, means could not be found for influencing the magistrate. But it was a great step to fence round his authority with the sanction of law, and no one of the Aztec monarch, as far as I know, is accused of an attempt to violate it. To receive presence or a bribe, to be guilty of collusion in any way with the suitor, was punished, in a judge, with death. Who, or what tribunal, decided as to his guilt, does not appear. In Tescuco, this was done by the rest of the court, but the king presided over that body. The Tescucan prince, Nezuapoli, who rarely tempered justice with mercy, put one judge to death for taking a bribe, and another for determining suits in his own house, a capital offense also by law. The judges of the higher tribunals were maintained from the produce of a part of the crown lands, reserved for this purpose. They, as well as the supreme judge, held their offices for life. The proceedings in the courts were conducted with decency and order. The judges wore an appropriate dress, and attended to business both parts of the day, dining always, for the sake of dispatch, in an apartment of the same building, where they held their session, a method of proceeding much commended by the Spanish chroniclers, to whom dispatch was not very familiar in their own tribunals. Officers attended to preserve order, and others summoned the parties and produced them in court. No council was employed, the parties stated their own case, and supported it by their witnesses. The oath of the accused was also admitted in evidence. The statement of the case, the testimony, and the proceedings of the trial were all set forth by a clerk in hieroglyphical paintings, and handed over to the court. The paintings were executed with so much accuracy that, in all suits respecting real property, they were allowed to be produced as good authority in the Spanish tribunals very long after the conquest. A capital sentence was indicated by a line traced with an arrow across the portrait of the accused. In Tescucco, where the king presided in the court, this, according to the national chronicler, was done with extraordinary parade. His description, which is of rather a poetical cast, I give in his own words. In the royal palace of Tescucco was a courtyard, on the opposite sides of which were two halls of justice. In the principal one, called the Tribunal of God, was a throne of pure gold inlaid with turquoise and other precious stones. On a stool in front was placed a human skull, crowned with an immense emerald of a pyramidal form, and surmounted by an agret of brilliant plumes and precious stones. This skull was laid on a heap of military weapons, shields, quivers, bows, and arrows. The walls were hung with tapestry, made of the hair of different wild animals, of rich and various colors, festooned by gold rings, and embroidered with figures of birds and flowers. Above the throne was a canopy of variegated plumage, from the center of which shot forth resplendent rays of gold and jewels. The other tribunal, called the kings, was also surmounted by a gorgeous canopy of feathers, on which were emblazoned the royal arms. Here the sovereign gave public audience and communicated his dispatches. But when he decided important causes, or confirmed a capital sentence, he passed to the Tribunal of God, attended by the fourteen great lords of the realm, marshaled according to their rank. Then, putting on his mitred crown, encrusted with precious stones and holding a golden arrow, by way of scepter, in his left hand, he laid his right upon the skull, and pronounced judgment. All this looks rather fine, for a court of justice it must be owned. But it is certain that the tescucans, as we shall see hereafter, possessed both the materials and the skill requisite to work them up in this manner. Had they been a little further advanced in refinement, one might well doubt they are having the bad taste to do so. The laws of the Aztecs were registered and exhibited to the people in their hieroglyphical paintings. Much the larger part of them, as in every nation imperfectly civilized, relates rather to the security of persons than of property. The great crimes against society were all made capital. Even the murder of a slave was punished with death. Adulterers, as among the Jews, were stoned to death. Thieving, according to the degree of the offense, was punished by slavery or death. Yet the Mexicans could have been under no great apprehension of this crime, since the entrances to their dwellings were not secured by bolts or fascinings of any kind. It was a capital offense to remove the boundaries of another's lands, to alter the established measures, and for a guardian not to be able to give a good account of his ward's property. These regulations events a regard for equity in dealings and for private rights, which argues a considerable progress in civilization. Prodigals, who squandered their patrimony, were punished, in like manner, a severe sentence, since the crime brought its adequate punishment along with it. Intemperance, which was the burden, moreover, of their religious homilies, was visited with the severest penalties, as if they had foreseen in it the consuming canker of their own as well as the other Indian races in later times. It was punished in the young with death, and in older persons with loss of rank and confiscation of property. Yet a decent conviviality was not meant to be prescribed at their festivals, and they possessed the means of indulging it in a mild, fermented liquor called Pulke. The rites of marriage were celebrated with as much formality as in any Christian country, and the institution was held in such reverence that a tribunal was instituted for the sole purpose of determining questions relating to it. Divorces could not be obtained until authorized by a sentence of this court, after a patient hearing of the parties. But the most remarkable part of the Aztec Code was that relating to slavery. There were several descriptions of slaves, prisoners taken in war, who were almost always reserved for the dreadful doom of sacrifice, criminals, public debtors, persons who, from extreme poverty, voluntarily resigned their freedom, and children who were sold by their own parents. In the last instance, usually occasioned also by poverty, it was common for the parents, with the master's consent, to substitute others of their children successively as they grew up, thus distributing the burden as equally as possible among the different members of the family. The willingness of free men to incur the penalties of this condition is explained by the mild form in which it existed. The contract of sale was executed in the presence of at least four witnesses. The services to be exacted were limited with great precision. The slave was allowed to have his own family to hold property and even other slaves. His children were free. No one could be born to slavery in Mexico, an honorable distinction, not known, I believe, in any civilized community where slavery has been sanctioned. Slaves were not sold by their masters unless when these were driven to it by poverty. They were often liberated by them at their death, and sometimes, as there was no natural repugnance founded on difference of blood and race, were married to them. Yet a refractory or vicious slave might be led into the market with a collar round his neck, which intimated his bad character, and there be publicly sold and, on a second sale, reserved for sacrifice. The royal revenues were derived from various sources. The crown lands, which appeared to have been extensive, made their returns in kind. The places in the neighborhood of the capital were bound to supply workmen and materials for building the king's palaces and keeping them in repair. They were also to furnish fuel, provisions, and whatever was necessary for this ordinary domestic expenditure, which was certainly of no stented scale. The principal cities which had numerous villages and a large territory dependent upon them were distributed into districts, with each a share of the lands allotted to it for its support. The inhabitants paid a stipulated part of the produce to the crown. The vassals of the great chiefs also paid a portion of their earnings into the public treasury, an arrangement not at all in the spirit of the feudal institutions. In addition to this tax on all the agricultural produce of the kingdom, there was another on its manufacturers. The nature and the variety of the tributes will be best shown by an enumeration of some of the principal articles. These were cotton dresses and mantles of featherwork exquisitely made, ornamented armor, vases and plates of gold, gold dust, bands and bracelets, crystal, gilt and varnished jars and goblets, bells, arms and utensils of copper, reams of paper, grain, fruits, copal, amber, cochineal, cocoa, wild animals and birds, timber, lime, mats, etc. In this curious medley of the most homely commodities and the elegant superfluities of luxury, it is singular that no mention should be made of silver, the great staple of the country in later times and the use of which was certainly known to the Aztecs. Garrisons were established in the larger cities, probably those at a distance and recently conquered, to keep down revolt and to enforce the payment of the tribute. Tax gatherers were also distributed throughout the kingdom, who were recognized by their official badges and dreaded from the merciless rigor of their exactions. By a stern law every defaulter was liable to be taken and sold as a slave. In the capital were spacious granaries and warehouses for the reception of the tributes. A receiver general was quartered in the palace, who rendered in an exact account the various contributions and watched over the conduct of the inferior agents, in whom the least malversation was summarily punished. This functionary was furnished with the map of the whole empire, with the minute specification of the imposts assessed on every part of it. These imposts, moderate under the reigns of the early princes, became so burdensome under those of the clothes of the dynasty being rendered still more oppressive by the manner of collection that they bred disaffection throughout the land and prepared the way for its conquest by the Spaniards. Communication was maintained with the remotest part of the country by means of couriers. Post houses were established on the great roads about two leagues distant from each other. The courier, bearing his dispatches in the form of a hieroglyphical painting, ran with them to the first station where they were taken by another messenger and carried forward to the next, and so on, till they reached the capital. These couriers, trained from childhood, traveled with incredible swiftness. Not four or five leagues an hour, as an old chronicler would make us believe, but with such speed that dispatches were carried from one to two hundred miles a day. Fresh fish was frequently served at Montezuma's table in twenty-four hours from the time it had been taken in the Gulf of Mexico, two hundred miles from the capital. In this way, intelligence of the movements of the royal armies was rapidly brought to court, and the dress of the courier, denoting, by its color, that of his tidings, spread joy or consternation in the towns through which he passed. But the great aim of the Aztec institutions to which private discipline and public honors were alike directed was the profession of arms. In Mexico, as in Egypt, the soldier shared with the priest the highest consideration. The king, as we have seen, must be an experienced warrior. The tutelary deity of the Aztecs was the god of war. A great object of their military expeditions was, together, hecatoms of captives for his alters. The soldier who fell in battle was transported at once to the region of ineffable bliss in the bright mansions of the sun. Every war, therefore, became a crusade, and the warrior, animated by a religious enthusiasm, like that of the early Saracen, or the Christian crusader, was not only raised to a contempt of danger, but courted it for the imperishable crown of martyrdom. Thus we find the same impulse acting in the most opposite quarters of the globe, and the Asiatic, the European, and the American each earnestly invoking the holy name of religion in the preparation of human butchery. The question of war was discussed in a council of the king and his chief nobles. Ambassadors were sent, previously to its declaration, to require the hostile state to receive the Mexican gods, and to pay the customary tribute. The persons of ambassadors were held sacred throughout Anoac. They were lodged and entertained in the great towns at the public charge, and were everywhere received with courtesy, so long as they did not deviate from the high roads in their route. When they did, they forfeited their privileges. If the embassy proved unsuccessful, a defiance or open declaration of war was sent. Quotas were drawn from the conquered provinces, which were always subjected to military service, as well as the payment of taxes, and the royal army, usually with the monarch at its head, began its march. The Aztec princes made use of the incentives employed by European monarchs to excite the ambition of their followers. They established various military orders, each having its privileges and peculiar insignia. There seems also to have existed a sort of knighthood of inferior degree. It was the cheapest reward of martial prowess, and whoever had not reached it was excluded from using ornaments on his arms or his person, and obliged to wear a coarse white stuff, made from the threads of the aloe, called Nekwin. Even the members of the royal family were not accepted from this law, which reminds one of the occasional practice of Christian knights to wear plain armor or shields without device, till they had achieved some doubty feed of chivalry. Although the military orders were thrown open to all, it is probable that they were chiefly filled with persons of rank, who, by their previous training and connections, were able to come into the field under peculiar advantages. The dress of the higher warriors was picturesque, and often magnificent. Their bodies were covered with a close vest of quilted cotton, so thick as to be impenetrable to the light missiles of Indian warfare. This garment was so light and serviceable, that it was adopted by the Spaniards. The wealthier chiefs sometimes wore, instead of this cotton mail, a cuirass made of thin plates of gold, or silver. Over it was thrown a surcoat of the gorgeous featherwork in which they excelled. Their helmets were sometimes of wood fashioned like the heads of wild animals, and sometimes of silver, on the top of which waved a panache of variegated feathers sprinkled with precious stones and ornaments of gold. They also wore collars, bracelets, and earrings of the same rich materials. Their armies were divided into bodies of eight thousand men, and these again into companies of three or four hundred, each with its own commander. The national standard, which has been compared to the ancient Roman, displayed in its embroidery of gold and featherwork the armorial ensigns of the state. These were significant of its name, which, as the names of both persons and places were borrowed from some material object, was easily expressed by hieroglyphical symbols. The companies and the great chiefs had also their appropriate banners and devices, and the gaudy hues of their many splendored plumes gave a dazzling splendor to the spectacle. Their tactics were such as belonged to a nation with whom war, though a trade, is not elevated to the rank of a science. They advanced singing and shouting their war cries, briskly charging the enemy as rapidly retreating and making use of ambuscades, sudden surprises, and the light skirmish of guerrilla warfare. Yet their discipline was such as to draw forth the incomians of the Spanish conquerors. A beautiful sight it was, says one of them, to see them set out on their march, all moving forward so gaily and in so admirable order. In battle they did not seek to kill their enemies, so much as to take them prisoners, and they never scout like other North American tribes. The valor of a warrior was estimated by the number of his prisoners, and no ransom was large enough to save the devoted captive. Their military code bore the same stern features as their other laws. Disobedience of orders was punished with death. It was death also for a soldier to leave his colors to attack the enemy before the signal was given, or to plunder another's booty or prisoners. One of the last Tuscan princes, in the spirit of an ancient Roman, put two sons to death after having cured their wounds for violating the last mentioned law. I must not omit to notice here an institution, the introduction of which in the old world, is ranked among the beneficent fruits of Christianity. Hospitals were established in the principal cities for the cure of the sick, and the permanent refuge of the disabled soldier, and surgeons were placed over them, who were so far better than those in Europe, says an old chronicler, that they did not protract the cure in order to increase the pay. Such is the brief outline of the civil and military polity of the ancient Mexicans. Less perfect than could be desired in regard to the former from the imperfection of the sources once it is drawn. Whoever has had occasion to explore the early history of modern Europe has found how vague and unsatisfactory is the political information which can be gleaned from the gossip of monkish analysts. How much is the difficulty increased in the present instance where this information first recorded in the dubious language of hieroglyphics was interpreted in another language with which the Spanish chroniclers were imperfectly acquainted, while it related to institutions of which their past experience enabled them to form no adequate conception. Amidst such uncertain lights, it is in vain to expect nice accuracy of detail. All that can be done is to attempt an outline of the more prominent features that a correct impression, so far as it goes, may be produced on the mind of the reader. Enough has been said, however, to show that the Aztec and Tuscucan races were advanced in civilization far beyond the wandering tribes of North America. The degree of civilization which they had reached, as inferred by their political institutions, may be considered, perhaps, not much short of that enjoyed by our Saxon ancestors under Alfred. In respect to the nature of it, they may be better compared with the Egyptians, and the examination of their social relations and culture may suggest still stronger points of resemblance to that ancient people. End of section one. Read by Dennis Serres in Modesto, California for LibriVox, fall 2007. This is section two, being book one, chapter three of A History of the Conquest of Mexico. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For further information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The History of the Conquest of Mexico by William Hickling Prescott. Book one, chapter three, Mexican mythology, the sacerdotal order, the temples, human sacrifices. The civil polity of the Aztecs is so closely blended with their religion that without understanding the latter, it is impossible to form correct ideas of their government or their social institutions. I shall pass over for the present some remarkable traditions bearing a singular resemblance to those found in the scriptures, and endeavour to give a brief sketch of their mythology and their careful provisions for maintaining a national worship. In contemplating the religious system of the Aztecs, one is struck with its apparent incongruity, as if some portion of it had emanated from a comparatively refined people, open to gentle influences, while the rest breeds a spirit of unmitigated ferocity. It naturally suggests the idea of two distinct sources, and authorises the belief that the Aztecs had inherited from their predecessors a milder faith, on which was afterwards engrafted their own mythology. The latter soon became dominant, and gave its dark colouring to the creeds of the conquered nations, which the Mexicans, like the ancient Romans, seemed willingly to have incorporated into their own, until the same funereal superstition settled over the farthest borders of Anahuac. The Aztecs recognised the existence of a supreme creator and lord of the universe. They addressed him in their prayers as, The God by whom we live, Omnipresent, that knoweth all thoughts and giveth all gifts, without whom man is as nothing. Invisible, incorporeal, one God of perfect perfection and purity, under whose wings we find repose and assure defence. These sublime attributes infer no inadequate conception of the true God, but the idea of unity, of a being with whom volition is action, who has no need of inferior ministers to execute his purposes, was too simple or too vast for their understandings. And they sought relief, as usual, in the plurality of deities who presided over the elements, the changes of the seasons, and the various occupations of man. Of these there were thirteen principal deities, and more than two hundred inferior, to each of whom some special day or appropriate festival was consecrated. At the head of all stood the terrible Huetzilopochtli, the Mexican Mars, although it is doing injustice to the heroic war god of antiquity, to identify him with this sanguinary monster. This was the patron deity of the nation. His fantastic image was loaded with costly ornaments. His temples were the most stately and august of the public edifices, and his altars reeked with the blood of human hecatombs in every city of the empire. Disastrous indeed must have been the influence of such a superstition on the character of the people. A far more interesting personage in their mythology was Quetzalcoatl, God of the Air, a divinity who, during his residence on earth, instructed the natives in the use of metals, in agriculture, and in the arts of government. He was one of those benefactors of their species, doubtless, who have been deified by the gratitude of posterity. Under him the earth teamed with fruits and flowers without the pains of culture. An ear of Indian corn was as much as a single man could carry. The cotton, as it grew, took of its own accord the rich dyes of human art. The air was filled with intoxicating perfumes and the sweet melody of birds. In short, these were the Halcyon days, which find a place in the mythic systems of so many nations in the old world. It was the golden age of Anahuac. From some cause not explained, Quetzalcoatl incurred the wrath of one of the principal gods, and was compelled to abandon the country. On his way he stopped at the city of Cholula, where a temple was dedicated to his worship, the massy ruins of which still form one of the most interesting relics of antiquity in Mexico. When he reached the shores of the Mexican Gulf, he took leave of his followers, promising that he and his descendants would revisit them hereafter, and then, entering his wizard skiff made of serpent skins, embarked on the great ocean for the fabled land of Tlapalan. He was said to have been tall in stature, with a white skin, long dark hair, and a flowing beard. The Mexicans looked confidently to the return of the benevolent deity, and this remarkable tradition deeply cherished in their hearts, prepared the way, as we shall see hereafter, for the future success of the Spaniards. We have not space for further details respecting the Mexican divinities, the attributes of many of whom were carefully defined as they descended in regular gradation to the penates or household gods whose little images were to be found in the humblest dwelling. The Aztecs felt the curiosity common to man in almost every stage of civilization to lift the veil which covers the mysterious past and the more awful future. They sought relief like the nations of the old continent, from the oppressive idea of eternity, by breaking it up into distinct cycles or periods of time, each of several thousand years duration. There were four of these cycles, and at the end of each, by the agency of one of the elements, the human family was swept from the earth and the sun blotted out from the heavens to be again rekindled. They imagined three separate states of existence in the future life. The wicked, comprehending the great part of mankind, were to expiate their sins in a place of everlasting darkness. Another class, with no other merit than that of having died of certain diseases capriciously selected, were to enjoy a negative existence of indolent contentment. The highest place was reserved, as in most warlike nations, for the heroes who fell in battle or in sacrifice. They passed at once into the presence of the sun, whom they accompanied with songs and choral dances in his bright progress through the heavens. And after some years their spirits went to animate the clouds and singing birds of beautiful plumage, and to revel amidst the rich blossoms and odours of the gardens of paradise. Such was the heaven of the Aztecs, more refined in its character than that of the more polished pagan, whose Elysium reflected only the martial sports or sensual gratifications of this life. In the destiny they assigned to the wicked, we discern similar traces of refinement, since the absence of all physical torture forms a striking contrast to the schemes of suffering so ingeniously devised by the fancies of the most enlightened nations. In all this, so contrary to the natural suggestions of the ferocious Aztec, we see the evidences of a higher civilisation inherited from their predecessors in the land. Our limits will allow only a brief allusion to one or two of their most interesting ceremonies. On the death of a person, his corpse was dressed in the peculiar habiliments of his tutelor deity. It was strewed with pieces of paper, which operated as charms against the dangers of the dark road he was to travel. A throng of slaves, if he were rich, was sacrificed at his obsequies. His body was burnt, and the ashes collected in avars were preserved in one of the apartments of his house. Here we have successively the usages of the Roman Catholic, the Musselman, the Tata and the ancient Greek and Roman, curious coincidences which may show how cautious we should be in adopting conclusions founded on analogy. A more extraordinary coincidence may be traced with Christian rites in the ceremony of naming their children. The lips and bosom of the infant were sprinkled with water, and the Lord was implored to permit the holy drops to wash away the sin that was given to it before the foundation of the world, so that the child might be born anew. We are reminded of Christian morals in more than one of their prayers, in which they use regular forms. Will thou blot us out, O Lord, forever? Is this punishment intended not for our reformation, but for our destruction? Again, in part to us, out of thy great mercy, thy gifts which we are not worthy to receive through our own merits. Keep peace with all, says another petition. Bear injuries with humility. God who sees will avenge you. But the most striking parallel with Scripture is in the remarkable declaration that he who looks too curiously on a woman commits adultery with his eyes. These pure and elevated maxims, it is true, are mixed up with others of a pure isle and even brutal character, arguing that confusion of the moral perceptions, which is natural in the twilight of civilization. One would not expect, however, to meet in such a state of society, with doctrines as sublime as any inculcated by the enlightened codes of ancient philosophy. But although the Aztec mythology gathered nothing from the beautiful inventions of the poet, nor from the refinements of philosophy, it was much indebted, as I have noticed, to the priests who endeavored to dazzle the imagination of the people by the most formal and pompous ceremonial. The influence of the priesthood must be greatest in an imperfect state of civilization, where it engrosses all the scanty science of the time in its own body. This is particularly the case when the science is of that spurious kind, which is less occupied with the real phenomena of nature, than with the fanciful chimeras of human superstition. Such are the sciences of astrology and divination in which the Aztec priests were well initiated, and while they seemed to hold the keys of the future and while they seemed to hold the keys of the future in their hands, they impressed the ignorant people with sentiments of superstitious awe, beyond that which has probably existed in any other country, even in ancient Egypt. The saccadotal order was very numerous, as may be inferred from the statement that five thousand priests were, in some way or other, attached to the principal temple in the capital. The various ranks and functions of this multitudinous body were discriminated with great exactness. Those best instructed in music took the management of the choirs. Others arranged the festivals conformably to the calendar. Some superintended the education of youth, and others had charge of the hieroglyphical paintings and oral traditions, while the dismal rites of sacrifice were reserved for the chief dignitaries of the order. At the head of the whole establishment were two high priests, elected from the order, as it would seem, by the king and principal nobles, without reference to birth, but solely for their qualifications, as shown by their previous conduct in a subordinate station. They were equal in dignity and inferior only to the sovereign, who rarely acted without their advice in weighty matters of public concern. The priests were each devoted to the service of some particular deity, and had quarters provided within the spacious precincts of their temple, at least while engaged in immediate attendance there, for they were allowed to marry and have families of their own. In this monastic residence they lived in all the stern severity of conventional discipline. Thrice during the day and once at night they were called to prayers. They were frequent in their ablutions and vigils, and mortified the flesh by fasting and cruel penance, drawing blood from their bodies by flagellation, or by piercing them with the thorns of the aloe. The great cities were divided into districts, placed under the charge of a sort of parochial clergy, who regulated every act of religion within their precincts. It is remarkable that they administered the rites of confession and absolution. The secrets of the confessional were held inviolable, and penances were imposed of much the same kind as those enjoined in the Roman Catholic Church. There were two remarkable peculiarities in the Aztec ceremony. The first was that, as the repetition of an offence once atoned for was deemed inexpeable, confession was made but once in a man's life, and was usually deferred to a late period of it. The penitent unburdened his conscience and settled at once the long arrears of iniquity. Another peculiarity was that priestly absolution was received in place of the legal punishment of offenses, and authorised an acquittal in case of arrest. Long after the conquest the simple natives, when they came under the arm of the law, sought to escape by producing the certificate of their confession. One of the most important duties of the priesthood was that of education, to which certain buildings were appropriated within the enclosure of the principal temple. Here the youth of both sexes of the higher and middling orders were placed at a very tender age. The girls were entrusted to the care of priestesses, for women were allowed to exercise saccadotal functions except those of sacrifice. In these institutions the boys were drilled in the routine of monastic discipline. They decorated the shrines of the gods with flowers, fed the sacred fires, and took part in the religious chants and festivals. Those in the high school, the Kal-Mekak as it was called, were initiated in their traditionary law, the mysteries of hieroglyphics, the principles of government, and such branches of astronomical and natural science, as were within the compass of the priesthood. The girls learnt various feminine employments, especially to weave and embroider rich coverings for the altars of the gods. Great attention was paid to the moral discipline of both sexes. The most perfect decorum prevailed, and offenses were punished with extreme rigor, in some instances with death itself. Terror, not love, was the spring of education with the Aztecs. At a suitable age for marrying or for entering into the world, the pupils were dismissed with much ceremony from the convent, and the recommendation of the principal often introduced those most competent to responsible situations in public life. Such was the crafty policy of the Mexican priests, who, by reserving to themselves the business of instruction, were enabled to mould the young and plastic mind according to their own wills, and to train it early to implicit reverence for religion and its ministers, a reverence which still maintained its hold on the iron nature of the warrior, long after every other vestige of education had been effaced by the rough trade to which he was devoted. To each of the principal's temples, lands were annexed for the maintenance of the priests. These estates were augmented by the policy of devotion of successive princes, until, under the last Montezuma, they had swollen to an enormous extent and covered every district of the empire. The priests took the management of their property into their own hands, and they seemed to have treated their tenants with the liberality and indulgence characteristic of monastic corporations. Besides the large supplies drawn from this source, the religious order was enriched with the first fruits and such other offerings as piety or superstition dictated. The surplus beyond what was required for the support of the national worship was distributed in arms among the poor, a duty strenuously prescribed by their moral code. Thus we find the same religion inculcating lessons of pure philanthropy on the one hand and of merciless extermination as we shall soon see on the other. The Mexican temples, Teocales or Houses of God as they were called, were very numerous. There were several hundreds in each of the principal cities, many of them doubtless, very humble edifices. They were solid masses of earth, cased with brick or stone, and in their form somewhat resembled the pyramidal structures of ancient Egypt. The bases of many of them were more than a hundred feet square and they towered to a still greater height. They were distributed into four or five stories, each of smaller dimensions than that below. The ascent was by a flight of steps at an angle of the pyramid on the outside. This led to a sort of terrace or gallery at the base of the second story, which passed quite round the building to another flight of stairs, commencing also at the same angle as the proceeding and directly over it, and leading to a similar terrace, so that one had to make a circuit of the temple several times before reaching the summit. In some instances the stairway led directly up the center of the western face of the building. The top was a broad area on which were erected one or two towers, forty or fifty feet high, the sanctuaries in which stood the sacred images of the presiding deities. Before these towers stood the dreadful stone of sacrifice, and two lofty altars on which fires were kept as inextinguishable as those in the temple of Vesta. There were said to be six hundred of these altars on smaller buildings within the enclosure of the great temple of Mexico, which with those on the sacred edifices in other parts of the city shared a brilliant illumination over its streets through the darkest night. From the construction of their temples all religious services were public. The long processions of priests winding round their massive sides as they rose higher and higher towards the summit, and the dismal rites of sacrifice performed there were all visible from the remotest corners of the capital, impressing on the spectator's mind a superstitious veneration for the mysteries of his religion, and for the dread ministers by whom they were interpreted. This impression was kept in full force by their numerous festivals. Each month was consecrated to some protecting deity, and every week, nay almost every day, was set down in their calendar for some appropriate celebration, so that it is difficult to understand how the ordinary business of life could have been compatible with the exactions of religion. Many of their ceremonies were of a light and cheerful complexion, consisting of the national songs and dances in which both sexes joined. Processions were made of women and children crowned with garlands, and bearing offerings of fruit, the ripened maize, or the sweet incense of copal, and other odouriferous gums, while the altars of the deity were stained with no blood, save that of animals. These were the peaceful rites derived from their Toltec predecessors, on which the fierce Aztecs engrafted a superstition too loathsome to be exhibited in all its nakedness, and one over which I would gladly draw a veil altogether, but that it would leave the reader in ignorance of their most striking institution, and one that had the greatest influence in forming the national character. Human sacrifices were adopted by the Aztecs early in the 14th century, about 200 years before the conquest. Rare at first they became more frequent with the wider extent of their empire, till at length almost every festival was closed with this cruel abomination. These religious ceremonials were generally arranged in such a manner as to afford a type of the most prominent circumstances in the character or history of the deity who was the object of them. A single example will suffice. One of their most important festivals was that in honour of the god Descatlipoca, whose rank was inferior only to that of the supreme being. He was called the soul of the world, and supposed to have been its creator. He was depicted as a handsome man, endowed with perpetual youth. A year before the intended sacrifice a captive distinguished for his personal beauty and without a blemish on his body was selected to represent this deity. Certain tutors took charge of him and instructed him how to perform his new part with becoming grace and dignity. He was arrayed in a splendid dress regaled with incense and with a profusion of sweet scented flowers of which the ancient Mexicans were as fond as their descendants of the present day. When he went abroad he was attended by a train of the royal pages, and as he halted in the streets to play some favourite melody, the crowd prostrated themselves before him and did him homage as the representative of their good deity. In this way he led an easy, luxurious life till within a month of his sacrifice. Four beautiful girls, bearing the names of the principal goddesses, were then selected to share the honours of his bed, and with them he continued to live in idle dalliance, feasted at the banquets of the principal nobles, who paid him all the honours of a divinity. At length the fatal day of sacrifice arrived. The term of his short-lived glories was at an end. He was stripped of his gaudy apparel and bade adieu to the fair partners of his revelries. One of the royal barges transported him across the lake to a temple which rose on its margin, about a league from the city. Hither the inhabitants of the capital flocked to witness the consummation of the ceremony. As the sad procession wound up the sides of the pyramid, the unhappy victim threw away his gay chaplet of flowers, and broke in pieces the musical instruments with which he had solaced the hours of captivity. On the summit he was received by six priests, whose long and matted locks flowed disorderly over their sabre-robes, covered with hieroglyphic scrolls of mystic import. They led him to the sacrificial stone, a huge block of jasper, with its upper surface somewhat convex. On this the prisoner was stretched. Five priests secured his head and his limbs, while the sixth clad in a scarlet mantle emblematic of his bloody office, dexterously opened the breast of the wretched victim with a sharp razor of ictsly, a volcanic substance hard as flint, and, inserting his hand in the wound, tore out the palpitating heart. The minister of death, first holding this up towards the sun, an object of worship throughout a Nahwak, cast it at the feet of the deity to whom the temple was devoted, while the multitudes below prostrated themselves in humble adoration. The tragic story of this prisoner was expounded by the priests as the type of human destiny, which, brilliant in its commencement, too often closes in sorrow and disaster. Such was the form of human sacrifice usually practiced by the Aztecs. It was the same that often met the indignant eyes of the Europeans in their progress through the country, and from the dreadful doom of which they themselves were not exempted. There were indeed some occasions when preliminary torches of the most exquisite kind, with which it is unnecessary to shock the reader, were inflicted, but they always terminated with the bloody ceremony above described. It should be remarked, however, that such torches were not the spontaneous suggestions of cruelty as with the North American Indians, but were all rigorously prescribed in the Aztec ritual, and doubtless were often inflicted with the same compunctious visitings which a devout familiar of the holy office might at times experience in executing its stern decrees. Women as well as the other sects were sometimes reserved for sacrifice. On some occasions, particularly in seasons of drought, at the festival of the insatiable Claloc, the god of rain, children for the most part infants were offered up. As they were born along in open litters dressed in their festal robes and decked with the fresh blossoms of spring, they moved the hardest heart to pity, though their cries were drowned in the wild chant of the priests, who read in their tears a favourable augury for their petitions. These innocent victims were generally bought by the priests of parents who were poor but who stifled the voice of nature, probably less at the suggestions of poverty than of a wretched superstition. The most loathsome part of the story, the manner in which the body of the sacrificed captive was disposed of, remains yet to be told. It was delivered to the warrior who had taken him in battle, and by him, after being dressed, was served up in an entertainment to his friends. This was not the course repast of famished cannibals, but a banquet teeming with delicious beverages and delicate viands, prepared with art and attended by both sexes, who, as we shall see hereafter, conducted themselves with all the decorum of civilised life. Surely never were refinement and the extreme of barbarism brought so closely in contact with each other. Human sacrifices have been practiced by many nations, not accepting the most polished nations of antiquity, but never by any, on a scale to be compared with those in Anahuac. The amount of victims immolated on its accursed altars would stagger the faith of the least scrupulous believer. Scarcely any author pretends to estimate the yearly sacrifices throughout the empire at less than 20,000, and some carry the number as high as 50. On great occasions, as the coronation of a king or the consecration of a temple, the number becomes still more appalling. At the dedication of the great temple of Huitzilopochtli in 1486, the prisoners, who for some years had been reserved to the purpose, were drawn from all quarters to the capital. They were ranged in files, forming a procession nearly two miles long. The ceremony consumed several days, and 70,000 captives are said to have perished at the shrine of this terrible deity. But who can believe that so numerous a body would have suffered themselves to be led unresistingly like sheep to the slaughter? Or how could their remains, too great for consumption in the ordinary way, be disposed of without breeding a pestilence in the capital? Yet the event was of recent date, and is unequivocally attested by the best-informed historians. One fact may be considered certain. It was customary to preserve the skulls of the sacrificed in buildings appropriated to the purpose. The companions of Cortes counted 136,000 in one of these edifices. Without attempting a precise calculation, therefore, it is safe to conclude that thousands were yearly offered up in the different cities of Anahuac on the bloody altars of the Mexican divinities. Indeed, the great object of war with the Aztecs was quite as much to gather victims for their sacrifices as to extend their empire. Hence it was that an enemy was never slain in battle if there was a chance of taking him alive. To this circumstance the Spaniards repeatedly owed their preservation. When Montezuma was asked why he had suffered the Republic of Glascala to maintain her independence on his borders, he replied that she might furnish him with victims for his gods. As the supply began to fail, the priests, the Dominicans of the new world, bellowed aloud for more, and urged on their superstitious sovereign by the denunciations of celestial wrath. Like the militant churchmen of Christendom in the Middle Ages, they mingled themselves in the ranks, and were conspicuous in the thickest of the fight by their hideous aspects and frantic gestures. Strange that in every country the most fiendish passions of the human heart have been those kindled in the name of religion. The influence of these practices on the Aztec character was as disastrous as might have been expected. Familiarity with the bloody rites of sacrifice steeled the heart against human sympathy and begat a thirst for carnage, like that excited in the Romans by the exhibitions of the circus. The perpetual recurrence of ceremonies in which the people took part associated religion with their most intimate concerns, and spread the gloom of superstition over the domestic hearth, until the character of the nation wore a grave and even melancholy aspect which belongs to their descendants at the present day. The influence of the priesthood of course became unbounded. The sovereign thought himself honored by being permitted to assist in the services of the temple. Far from limiting the authority of the priests to spiritual matters, he often surrendered his opinion to theirs, where they were least competent to give it. It was their opposition that prevented the final capitulation which would have saved the capital. The whole nation from the present to the prince bowed their necks to the worst kind of tyranny, that of a blind fanaticism. Human sacrifice, however cruel, has nothing in it degrading to its victim. It may be rather said to ennoble him by devoting him to the gods, although so terrible with the Aztecs, it was sometimes voluntarily embraced by them as the most glorious death and one that opened a sure passage into paradise. The Inquisition, on the other hand, branded its victims with infamy in this world and consigned them to everlasting perdition in the next. One detestable feature of the Aztec superstition, however, sunk it far below the Christian. This was its cannibalism, though in truth the Mexicans were not cannibals in the coarsest acceptation of the term. They did not feed on human flesh merely to gratify a brutish appetite, but in obedience to their religion. Their repasts were made of the victims whose blood had been poured out on the altar of sacrifice. This is a distinction worthy of notice. Still cannibalism, under any form or whatever sanction, cannot but have a fatal influence on the nation addicted to it. It suggests ideas so loathsome, so degrading to man, to his spiritual and immortal nature, that it is impossible the people who practice it should make any great progress in moral or intellectual culture. The Mexicans furnished no exception to this remark. The civilisation which they possessed descended from the Toltecs, a race who never stained their altars, still lest their banquets with the blood of man. All that deserved the name of science in Mexico came from this source, and the crumbling ruins of edifices attributed to them, still extant in various parts of New Spain, show a decided superiority in their architecture over that of the later races of Anahuac. It is true the Mexicans made great proficiency in many of the social and mechanic arts in that material culture, if I may so call it, the natural growth of increasing opulence which ministers to the gratification of the senses. In purely intellectual progress they were behind the Tess Cookens, whose wise sovereigns came into the abominable rights of their neighbours with reluctance, and practiced them on a much more moderate scale. And of but one chapter three