on the Sabbath, in whatever port we may lie, without consulting the authorities on shore. Our privilege is wide as the ocean, and the shores which it laves. Would it were so with every denomination of Christians. The faggot which bigotry kindles may burn the recusant first, but is pretty sure in the end to consume those who light it.

Our forefathers were driven out of the old world by the intolerance of an arbitrary authority, attempting to enthrone itself on the human conscience. I seem to stand once more beneath the wintry trees which threw their bleak shadows on the rock where they first knelt, in their wild inhospitable home. Their memory stands apart, as a thing by itself, sacred and imperishable in the reverence and love of millions. Hail to

THE PILGRIM FATHERS.

They were men of giant soul,

Men of faith and deeds sublime;
Men whose acts will reach their goal
In the mighty depths of time.

They resigned, at God's behest,

Kindred, home, their fathers' graves

Pilgrims o'er the ocean's crest,

Mid the thunder of its waves.

Here-where pathless forests frowned,
Wailing torrents rolled their foam,

Wolves and wild men prowled around

Rose their altars and their home.

What to them were stately shrines, Gorgeous dome, or towering spire? 'Neath their sturdy oaks and pines

Rose their anthems, winged with fire!

When oppression reached the coast,
With the tyrant's purpose flushed,
They to peril's deadliest post

For their God and country rushed.

As the steep volcano throws

From its burning breast the rock, They o'erthrew their columned foes, In the battle's fiery shock.

All that consecrates their fame,
All that sanctifies our hearth,
All that freedom here can claim;
In their noble minds had birth.

By their dead, on Bunker's steep!

By their bones, in Monmouth's plains

We their faith and trust will keep,

While their blood rolls in our veins !

Thou who heard'st the Pilgrim's prayerNerved him for the doubtful field—

Made his sacred cause thy care,

O'er us cast thy mighty shield!

20*

234

CHAPTER VIII.

SKETCHES OF LIMA.

INCIDENTS OF THE ROAD.THE GRAND FLAZA.SHOPS AND HOUSES.THE SAYA Y MANTO.-AMERICAN LADY.—MIXTURE OF RACES.-DEMEANOR OF GIRLS AND BOYS.-PROCESSION ON PALM SUNDAY.CONVENT OF THE FRANCISCANS.-DOCTORS OF LIMA.-GOOD FRIDAY.-THE LAST SUPPER.-PILATE'S COURT.—GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE. CLOSE OF LENT.-JUBILA~ TIONS.-CLIMATE. AN OFFICER IN PRISON.-LAWYERS. THE INDIAN'S EYRIE.THE LOTTERY.-BULL-FIGHT.

In Lima's streets a stranger stood,

Who wrapp'd his thoughts about him
So close, that they who watched his mood,
But deemed the place without him.

MONDAY, MARCH 30.

We were off this morning at an early hour for Lima. The distance is only seven miles, and is travelled by a line of omnibuses, drawn by six horses, three abreast. Our companions were lieutenants S. and L. of the Congress, two Peruvian officers, a Spanish lady with a lapdog, a creole girl smoking a cigar, and a quadroon in whitekid slippers.

We passed on the right an obelisk surmounted by a cross, designating the spot to which the sea was thrown, in the great earthquake of 1746. A little further on we passed the neglected dwellings of Bellavista, projected as the new Callao, and built further

inland, that it might escape the terrible fate of its predecessor. But fear soon yielded to the suggestions of commercial convenience, and Callao went back again to the strand of the sea.

After dragging along for nearly an hour, with our old vehicle buried to the axle in sand, we reached the halfway station, which consists of a dilapidated church and a grog-shop. In the ruined turrets of the one the martins had built their procreant nests; at the bar of the other stood a bare-headed monk, soliciting the change which the glass of toddy might leave. His large feet were protected by sandals, and his Roman nose was so red that one of the passengers got out a cigar.

Having breathed our steeds, we started again, when a fierce quarrel arose between the Spanish lady and her poodle. The little fellow had wet her pocket-handkerchief, and had his ears soundly boxed for the indiscretion. The quadroon took the part of the poodle, and the creole girl smoked on. We now passed several huge tumuli-the burial mounds of the aborigines. The heroic virtues which they entomb have perished. No Homer has swept his lyre in their giant shadows. The road, as we approached the city, presented on either side double rows of poplars, beneath which the Limanians take their twilight promenade. But at this time only a few donkeys were winding their way through them, buried up in

grass, which they were taking to market.

You saw

only the burden; the animal was concealed under it, like a tortoise beneath its shell, or a mouse under a crow's nest.

We found at the gate a sentry posted with as much solemnity as if the old bastion could still thunder out its defiance. We rattled up a broad street into the heart of the city, where we were emptied. from our crazy coach into an office surrounded by boys, who vociferously claimed the privilege of transporting our baggage. The urchins had hold of it before we could even tell them where we were going. The lady with her repentant poodle, and the creole with her cigar, went their way, and we brought up at Morin's hotel on the grand plaza. The keeper met us in the hall, welcomed us to Lima, and allotted us our apartments. Here we were then at last in the "city of kings," and in the most sumptuous hotel which its ambition and luxury could furnish. What a transition from the storms, the sleet, and whales off Cape Horn!

TUESDAY, MARCH 31. The heart of Lima is occupied by a great public square, in the centre of which stands a fountain, the showering waters of which fall into a wide marble basin. Beneath the verandas which open on this square are the fancy shops of the city, while the Cathedral towers over all in its solemn