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Rh people. It was a pious and philosophic devotion of time worthy as well of Christian nations as of those believing in the necessary care of their worthless bodies, until the period of their ultimate reunion with the spirit.

I have thus hastily gathered together some sketches of the remains that cover our Continent from the remote north of our own possessions to near the region of Mr. Stephens's discoveries.

If they fail to identify the Southern nations with the Northern tribes, or to prove that the rude mound of the savage was but the precursor of the stone pyramid of the civilized southern, they will at least serve to show that at the north, as well as in more genial climates, there have been races who worshipped the Great Spirit, buried their dead, defended themselves from their foes, and possessed, at least, a partial taste for the refinements of life. At all events, it is not probable that the remains so plentifully sprinkled over the Mexican territory, from the Rio Gila to the limits of Oaxaca, were untenanted and unused at the period of the conquest, while it is known that the cities of Mexico and of Cholula contained within their limits magnificent edifices, devoted to the domestic comfort and public worship of a refined and numerous population.

14th October. Returned to Mexico. The last person who bade us fare-well in Tezcoco, was the worthy Tio Ignacio—of whose hunting-bull, deer-call, rough honesty, and wild adventures, I shall long retain a pleasing recollection.

"I am poor, Caballero," said he, with a grasp of his hard hand, "I am poor, and have led a dog's life of it from the age of five years—fighting, bull-catching, beef-selling, hunting and living with the Indians up in the mountains for weeks, with no covering but my blanket and a pine tree;—but I have managed, nevertheless, to raise a large family of boys, all of whom can ride better than I; can catch a bull at full gallop; know how to read and write; tell the truth; obey their father without questioning, and hit the mark at eighty varas! I owe no man a claco, I love my horse, my gun, my pulqué,—and, better than all, I love my old wife, who, with all my wildness, passion, and temper, hat never quarrelled with me in a casamiento of twenty years! Who says as much in Mexico? Vaya!

"Come to Tezcoco once more. Caballero, and we will go up to Tlaloc together with my people, the Indians, and I'll make that old demonio give up some of the bones of his ancestors—picaro! Adios!"