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music so good, I could hardly believe that almost all were amateur performers.

A hymn, which had been composed for the occasion, and of which we had received an elegantly-bound copy in the morning, was particularly effective. The music was composed by Señor Retes, and the words by Señor Covo, both Spaniards. Various overtures from the last operas were played, and at the end of what seemed to be the first act, in the midst of deafening applause from the crowd, C-n made me return thanks from the window in beautiful impromptu Spanish! Then came shouts of "Viva la España !" "Viva Ysabel Segunda!" "Viva el Ministro de España !" Great and continued cheering. Then C-n gave in return, "Viva la Republica Mexicana!" "Viva Bustamante!" and the shouting was tremendous. At last an Andalusian in the crowd shouted out, "Viva todo el Mundo!" (Long live every body), which piece of wit was followed by general laughter.

After hot punch and cigars had been handed about out of doors, a necessary refreshment in this cold night, the music recommenced, and the whole ended with the national hymn of Spain, with appropriate words. A young Spanish girl, whose voice is celebrated here, was then entreated by those within, and beseeched by those without, to sing alone the hymn composed in honour of C―n, which she naturally felt some hesitation in doing before such an immense audience. However, she consented at last, and in a voice like a clarion, accompanied by the orchestra, sung each verse alone, joined in the chorus by the whole crowd. I give you a copy:

Himno Patriótico que varios Españoles, Residentes en México, dedican al Esmo. Sr. Don A- C de la B- Ministro Plenipotenciario de S. M. C. en la República, con Motivo de su Llegada á dicha Capital.

Musica del Sr. J. N. DE RETES; Palabras del Sr. DN. JUAN COVO.

CORO.

Triunfamos, amigos,
Triunfamos enfin,
Y libre respir
La Patria del Cid.

La augusta Cristina,
De España embeleso,
El mas tierno beso
Imprime á Ysabel:
Y" Reina," le dice,
"No ia sobre esclavos;
Sobre Iberos bravos,

Sobre un pueblo fiel."

Triunfamos, amigos, &c.

Donde está de Carlos
La perfida hueste?

Un rayo celeste

Polvo la tornó.

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Patriotic Hymn which various Spaniards, resident in Mexico, dedicate to his Excellency Señor Don A—C— de la B—, Minister Plenipotentiary and Envoy Extraordinary from H. C. M. to the Republic, to celebrate his arrival in this Capital.

The music by Señor Don J. N. DE RETES; the words by Señor Don JUAN COVO.

CHORUS.

Let us triumph, my friends,
Let us triumph at length,

And let the country of the Cid
Breathe freely again.

The august Christina,
The ornament of Spain,
Imprinted the most tender kiss
On the cheek of Isabel.
And" Reign," she said to her,
"Not now over slaves,
But over brave Iberians,
Over a faithful people!"

Let us triumph, my friends, &c.

Where is the perfidious
Army of Carlos ?

A celestial thunderbolt

Has turned it to dust

A thunderbolt which plunged

The wicked one into the abyss-
A thunderbolt which Liberty
Launched against Carlism.

Let us triumph, my friends, &c.

Of the brave chief,
Of the good, the valiant,'
Let us gird the forehead
With myrtle and laurel.

Thy brave right hand,
Heroic warrior,

Thy right hand, Espartero,

Subdued the disloyal one.

Let us triumph, my friends, &c.

Our holy laws

Will be acknowledged,

And kings will tremble
At the power of Spain;
And should a tyrant grasp
The sceptre of opprobrium,
From his infamous hand

We shall cause it to fall.

Let us triumph, my friends, &c.

Health to Isabella,

Health to Christina,

Whom Heaven has destined

To save the country;

48

ACTORS AND MATADORS.

And may he freely crown
The white forehead
Of the innocent princess

He swore to protect.

Let us triumph, my friends, &c.

And thou, messenger

Of peace and joy,

Hear the pure voice
Of our loyalty;

Hear the accents

Which we raise to Heaven;

Hear what we cry,

Country! Liberty!

Let us triumph, my friends, &c.

Thou, C-n, shalt be
The worthy symbol

Of grateful reunion,

Of eternal friendship,

Which already has changed,

In both worlds,

Insane discord

Into concord and fraternity.

Let us triumph, my friends, &c.

The air was rent with vivas! and bravos! as the Señorita de F concluded. Her voice was beautiful, and, after the first moment of embarrassment, she sang with much spirit and enthusiasm. This was the finale of the serenade, and then the serenaders were invited in, and were in such numbers that the room would scarcely hold them all. More cigars, more punch, more giving of thanks. About three o'clock the crowd began to disperse, and at length, after those Spanish leave-takings, which are really no joke, had ended, Captain E, Cn, and I, all three excessively cold and shivering, having passed the night at the open windows, consoled ourselves with hot chocolate and punch, and went to dream of sweet-sounding harmonies. Altogether, it was a scene which I would not have missed for a great deal.

The enthusiasm caused by the arrival of the first minister from Spain seems gradually to increase. The actors are to give him a a"funcion extraordinaria," in the theatre-the matadors a bull-fight extraordinary, with fireworks. . . . . But in all this you must not suppose there is any personal compliment. It is merely intended as a mark of good will towards the first representative of the Spanish monarchy who brings from the mother-country the formal acknowledgment of Mexican independence.

LETTER THE SEVENTH.

Début in Mexico-Cathedral-Temple of the Aztecs-Congregation-Stone of Sacrifices-Palace-Importunate Léperos-Visit to the President-Countess C--a-Street-cries-Tortilleras-Sartor Resartus.

I MADE my début in Mexico by going to mass in the cathedral. We drove through the Alameda, near which we live, and admired its noble trees, flowers, and fountains, all sparkling in the sun. We met but few carriages there, an occasional gentleman on horseback, and a few solitary-looking people resting on the stone benches, also plenty of beggars, and the forçats in chains, watering the avenues. We passed through the Calle San Francisco, the handsomest street in Mexico, both as to shops and houses (containing, amongst others, the richly-carved but now half-ruined palace of Yturbide), and which terminates in the great square where stand the cathedral and the palace. The streets were crowded, it being a holiday; and the purity of the atmosphere, with the sun pouring down upon the bright-coloured groups, and these groups so picturesque, whether of soldiers or monks, peasants or veiled ladies; the very irregularity of the buildings, the number of fine churches and old convents, and every thing on so grand a scale, even though touched by the finger of time, or crushed by the iron heel of revolution, that the attention is constantly kept alive, and the interest excited.

The carriage drew up in front of the cathedral, built upon the site of part of the ruins of the great temple of the Aztecs; of that pyramidal temple, constructed by Ahuitzotli, the sanctuary so celebrated by the Spaniards, and which comprehended with all its different edifices and sanctuaries, the ground on which the cathedral now stands, together with part of the plaza and streets adjoining.

We are told, that within its enclosure were five hundred dwellings, that its hall was built of stone and lime, and ornamented with stone serpents. We hear of its four great gates, fronting the four cardinal points of its stone-paved court, great stone stairs, and sanctuaries dedicated to the gods of war; of the square destined for religious dances, and the colleges for the priests, and seminaries for the priestesses; of the horrible temple, whose door was an enormous serpent's mouth; of the temple of mirrors and that of shells; of the house set apart for the emperor's prayers; of the consecrated fountains, the birds kept for sacrifice, the gardens for the holy flowers, and of the terrible towers composed of the skulls of the victims-strange mixture of the beautiful and the horrible! We

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