In a moment, the three picadors were at him with their long lances; and, in the next, two of them were rolling in the dust, and trampled by the savage beast. This brought applause from the multitude; and an honest Irishman near me shouted, at the top of his lungs, "bravo, bull!"

The matadors, however, were instantly at him with their red cloaks, and distracting his attention from the fallen picadors, gave them time to rise and mount-at least one of them, I should say, for the horse of the other had been gored in the stomach, and as he rose, his entrails trailed along the ground!

The usual routine was gone through with this bull as with the first; and at length the trumpet sounded for the chief matador to receive the sword.

But this was evidently not an animal to be trifled with; and the courageous Andalusian approached him warily. As he came up with the bull, the beast was near the edge of the barricade, and foaming with rage. His hair was yet blazing from the explosion of the crackers. The Andalusian flirted the red cloak in his eyes, and, turning as usual to the right to give the blow as the animal sprang, he lucklessly missed his aim, and was caught at a yard's distance between the palisade and the beast. A bound over the inclosure saved him, while the bull's horns were driven against the boards, with a force that made the theatre ring and the strong timbers quiver.

Directly, however, was the stout-hearted fighter again on the sands and taunting his foe. Another spring-another wave of the cloak in the beast's eyes-and his sword was plunged up to the hilt in his neck, the point penetrating the skin and hair and shining out on his other side, just above the right shoulder. Yet the wound was not fatal, and the beast bounded on madder than ever. A picador came at him, and was trampled in the dust. Another came on, and his horse, too, was tossed in the air; yet, preserving his balance, he alighted on his feet, and as his horse rose from his fall, he rose with him, seated on his saddle; at the same time, with admirable presence of mind, slinging his lasso, which caught on one horn but unfortunately slipped off. Unsuccessful as was this act, the self-command, the horsemanship, and the graceful skill of the picador, brought down a storm of applause.

Meantime, the Andalusian had recovered his wind, and was ready for another attack on his unconquered foe; but this time he made the attack unarmed. Mad as the animal was, and goaded by the lances sticking in his back, his skin scorched, and the weapon thrust through his body, yet the matador approached bravely; he threw his cloak once more on the beast's eyes, and, with a leap over his horns as he stooped, caught the handle of the sword and drew it out streaming with blood.

What with annoyance, and exhaustion from the loss of blood, the bull's strength was by this time well nigh spent. He made for the door in the. barricade whence he had been admitted to the arena. He paused at the gate the blood pouring from his wound. It was evident he was dying,

and all attacks were at once abandoned. He had fought so bravely that picadors, matadors, coleadors, and all the troop of the arena drew round him in a circle, as if to look on the death-struggle of a hero. All seemed struck with admiration! the lépe os in the galleries, even, were hushed to profound silence.

The bull stood a moment as if uncertain what to do. I confess that the poor wretch seemed to me to possess intellect-an intellect, stung by the reproach of strength foiled by an inferior and despised foe.

He felt his limbs grow feebler. He attempted to run, but his legs refused to move. He lifted his feet convulsivly-waved his tail-opened his eyes as if alarmed by a sudden nervous fear, and fixed them with a fierce stare on the blood which was pouring in a stream before him. He tried to run; reeled twice, but recovered his balance. A matador then came again before him with his cloak and a short dagger, to put an end to the painful scene; but as he approached, the beast swayed himself forward with his lips drawn up, and the foam covering his teeth-drew himself up still and stiff as a statue, for a dying effort of power-then suddenly bending his head to the earth, sprang at the matador and fell dead"Foiled, breathless, bleeding, furious-to the last!"

This was the best fight of the evening. Five more bulls were brought out, but nearly all proved craven. None, however, were killed by the matador at the first blow, which rather lowered the mob's opinion of his skill. Some of the animals were caught by the tail, which, twisted around the high pommel of the saddles of the coleadors, while their horses were brought to a sudden halt, threw the bulls on their sides. These, however, were the utter cowards. Others were caught with the lasso around the horns or heels, and I had thus the first opportunity of seeing the perfection obtained by most Mexican horsemen in the use ofthis useful instrument. One of the bulls bounded over the palisade, among the spectators, within a few feet of me; but he was so contemptible a beast, that he seemed more pleased to get rid of the crowd than the crowd was to get rid of him. He was of course sacrificed in some very ignoble manner.

As the evening sports ended, and even before sunset, the moon rose in her calm majesty, casting her mild light on the multitude in that bloody circus. The towers and dome of a church overlook the walls of the arena on the east, and the bells called the crowd from that scene of carnage on the Sabbath evening, to the adjacent retreat of peacefulness and religion! As I went home, I could not help asking myself, if I had spent those hours profitably? It is true that there are "sermons in stones, and good in everything;" and the contrast of life and death-the passage of a creature from robust and active health, and the full enjoyment of every physical power, to death and utter oblivion-was, it is equally true, a sermon and a lesson. But to how many? Was there a lépero there, who went away taught, thoughtful or moralizing?

I must confess, that I can regard these festivals but with a feeling of unqualified disgust, both at the scene itself, and at the gradual destruction of the finer sentiments which such exhibitions, frequently repeated before all classes, must inevitably produce.

When the Romans had exhausted the whole round of natural amusements, they invented those of the circus; and, not contented with the civilized butchery of the brute creation, in process of time they matched man against beast, and man against man. It was the extreme of refinementthe height of expensive luxury-the termination of that vicious circle of society, where civilization merges into barbarism. It was an omen of the speedy decline of that mighty empire.

The exhibition of the slaughter-house, as a sport, can tend alone to foster a brutal passion for blood. Death becomes familiarized as a plaything to the multitude. They make a clown of the grim monster. They put him as a joker on the arena for Sabbath sports; and the day that is assigned as a period of repose, thankfulness, love, and remembrance of the blessed God, is converted into a school-time of the worst passions that can afflict and excite the human heart.

It may be said, that this is not true of all classes. I grant it, and reply that although all classes visit the circus, yet the majority of the spectators is doubtless composed of the lowest ranks, requiring most moral instruction, and least addicted to reasoning. With such a population as that of the léperos of Mexico, (men scarcely a remove from the beasts whose slaughter they gloat on,) these scenes of murder, in which bulls, matadors and picadors, are often indiscriminately slain, can only serve to nourish the most wicked passions, and to nerve the ignorant and vile to deeds of most daring criminality.

It will be a matter of sincere congratulation for Mexican patriots, when this remnant of barbarism is abolished in their country, and the thousands which are annually expended in bull-fights throughout the Republic, are devoted to the education or rational amusement of the people.

LETTER XII.

THE VIRGIN OF GUADALUPE AND HER FESTIVAL.

THE 12th of December is the Festival of the "VIRGIN of Guadalupe," (the Patron Saint of Mexico ;) and as the history of this personage, and the ceremonies in her honor are rather singular; and the shrine where she is worshipped is one of the most magnificent in the Republic, I will give you some account of them.

The church lies about three miles from the city, at the foot of the Sierra that rises from the plain on the north. The great Collegiate edifice is built on the level ground; but the ancient, and I believe the original chapel, is on the top of an adjacent hill. The collection of buildings, devoted to this saint, form a little village of themselves, independently of the small town, which has grown up in the process of time from the pickings and pilgrimages to the sacred shrine.

On the day in question, thousands went out to the church from the city of Mexico. From early in the morning, the magnificent paved road, built to this spot, in the palmy days of the Spanish Empire, was covered with foot-passengers, horsemen, léperos, Indians, grandees in their sumptuous coaches, and in fact by all the population of the town, who could either walk, or afford to ride at their own or others' cost. Not a vehicle was to be had in the Capital for love or money, unless begged or hired on the preceding day.

I went rather late, and found the churches crammed to suffocation; while the Archbishop recited mass, and the President and the high officers of state, seated under a canopy of crimson velvet, in the main body of the building, assisted in the service.

A large portion of the crowd was composed of léperos, in their greasy blankets; and from far and wide in the Department of Mexico, and even from some others, thousands of Indians had come to the festival, with their wives and children. In such a crowd, on a rather warm day, and in a church of ordinary size, you will readily agree with me that the odor was not exactly that of attar of roses-consequently I left them to their devotions; and, with a friend, betook myself to the open air and a survey of the premises.

Yet this could scarcely be called an escape: the crowd without seemed quite as great as that within. In the Plaza, over part of which an awning was spread for a procession at the close of the ceremonies, the Indians. had erected booths where they displayed their wares, and were driving a profitable trade in trinkets, pictures of saints, &c.; a mode of speculation which they imitated from the priesthood, who, at the doors of the churches, likewise carried on a brisk business in selling to the faithful slips of crimson ribbon, about two feet long, with a pious inscription, and medals of the Holy Virgin, for sixpence a-piece. I bought one, and passed on.

In the shops around the square were all the unoccupied Mexicans. The church was too small to contain them, and they were.necessarily forced to retire to these establishments; where, with their donzellas of the reboso, they luxuriated on lemonade, oranges, and sweet biscuits, varying their food and flirtations with a choice cigarrito.

At the distance of about two hundred yards from the main edifice, another chapel is erected over a spring of mineral water. This is regarded as a "holy well;" and part of the ceremonial, upon this occasion, is to dip the fingers in the sacred stream, and to make with it a sign of the cross on brow and breast. In all such seasons, none are of course more devout and more conscientious in the performance of this duty than the Indians. They believe that the Virgin herself has specially consecrated the water; and the consequence is, that a simple dip is by no means sufficient. I suppose there could not have been less than three thousand of these Indians in the village, half of whom were constantly pressing, squeezing, shouting, with their women by their sides, and their children, in full squall, strapped to their backs; all struggling, either to approach or leave the well. Not satisfied, however, with a dip in the water, they felt it to be a religious duty to wash; and as so many thousands were paddling in maudlin devotion, the well became necessarily fouled, notwithstanding its sacredness. In addition to this, as all could not reach the fountain itself, multitudes were obliged to content themselves with the refuse that drained along the gutters, after having served for the ablutions of the more fortunate. The consequence was, that a more besmeared set of wretches was never displayed, than when the Indians completed their pious lustrations toward evening. But even this did not exhaust their craving appetites for the sacred water; and every one who could buy, borrow, steal, or own a vessel, capable of containing liquids, bore it with him to his distant home full of the turbid flood. It was a panacea for many an ill, and perhaps superior in efficacy to a "blessed candle!"

From the door of the edifice over the well, a steep stairway strikes up the hill side of Tepeyac, to a church on the summit; and to this, it is the duty of all to perform a pilgrimage in the course of the day. I followed the steps of the multitude; but as the church was crowded even more densely with natives than the edifice below, I refrained from entering, and sat down on a pile of stones to enjoy a charming view of the Valley