CHAPTER XVIII.

_Religion.--Marriages and funerals.--Government.--War.--Medicine and surgery.--General character and probable destiny of the Mexican Indians._

The religion of the Mexicans was cruel, like themselves. They believed in a vast number of gods, who presided over every part of the world. There was the god of the air, a god of the day and night, another of games and sports, &c. They also worshipped the sun and moon. But the deity whom the Mexicans most venerated was Mexitli, the god of war; their city was named after him, and in his honor the great temple, of which we have given some account in a former chapter, was erected. Besides this, there were a great many other temples dedicated to the worship of their numberless deities. It is said that there were no less than two thousand such buildings in the city of Mexico.

But the place where the worship of the gods was most cultivated, was the city of Cholula, a few miles to the southeast of Mexico. Here was the famous pyramid of Cholula, to which pilgrims repaired from all parts of the empire. It was built of bricks and clay, and on the top was a small temple, with the image of a god, and an altar on which sacrifices were offered to him. The idol was burned by the Spaniards, and the temple thrown down; but the pyramid still remains, though much decayed. At a distance it looks like a little mountain.

As the gods of the Mexicans were so many in number, they must have had a multitude of priests to perform the holy rites which were necessary to gain their favor. There are supposed to have been no less than a million in the whole empire. But they did not attend only to religious duties. It was their office to educate the young, to appoint festivals, and to take care of the picture-writings. They possessed nearly all the learning of the nation, and composed all the painted books. The chief priest was elected from the highest nobles, and it was necessary he should be a man of unspotted character and great learning.

The sacrifices of the Mexicans were of the most horrible kind. The victims which they offered were human beings. All prisoners taken in war, criminals, and sometimes children, were sacrificed to their bloody deities. The wretched victim was laid upon the altar, and while five men were employed in holding him, the high priest with a sharp knife made a deep gash in his breast, and tore out his heart, yet warm and beating, and held it up in his bloody hand before the face of his god! They had another method of sacrificing, equally bloody, though not so revolting. It resembled very much the gladiatorial contests of the Romans. Two of the bravest prisoners of war were armed with a sword and shield, and compelled to fight on a stage in view of a crowd of spectators. When one was slain, another was put in his place, and so on, until the required number had been sacrificed. When any one proved five times victorious, his life was spared, and he was declared free, amid the applause of the spectators.

When a young man had arrived at a proper age to marry, a suitable wife was singled out for him, and the astrologers were consulted to know whether the match would be prosperous. If they returned a favorable answer, the parents of the bride, after giving her a good deal of good advice, carried her in a litter to the house of the bridegroom, accompanied by a crowd of friends with music and torches. The parents of the bridegroom stood at the door, ready to receive them. The couple were seated on a beautiful mat, and were united by tying the corners of their garments together. After this simple ceremony they were declared husband and wife. A feast was set before the company, after which a dance in the court-yard of the house, lively conversation, and good wishes on the part of the guests, closed the scene.

Funerals were performed with great solemnity. When a man died, four old men were chosen to have the direction of the funeral rites. They first sprinkled his head with water, and then clothed the body in a dress corresponding to his profession or character in life. If he had been a soldier, they dressed him in the habit of _Mexitli_, the god of war; if a merchant, in the dress of the god of merchants; if a drunkard, in that of the god of wine; and so on. The body was then laid on a funeral pile, and near it a jar of water for him to drink on his journey, and a little dog to lead him. They then set fire to the pile. When the body was consumed, they collected the ashes into a vase, into which they put a little gem, saying that it would serve him for a heart in the next world. They buried this vase in a deep pit, and mourned for the dead eighty days.

The Mexicans believed that after death the souls of those that died in battle went to the palace of the sun; a place of endless delight, where they spent four years in the enjoyment of all the pleasures that this glorious deity had provided for this favored class. After this, they supposed that these happy spirits went to animate clouds, and birds of beautiful feathers and sweet song; but thus always at liberty to rise again to heaven or descend to the earth, carolling songs of praise to their glorious benefactor. The souls of children, and of those who died of wounds, went to a paradise beneath the earth, the residence of the god of water. Here, in cool retreats they passed their hours in calm and placid enjoyment, undisturbed by the cares and vexations of the world. For those who died of other diseases, a place of utter darkness was set apart. The spirits sent hither suffered no punishment, and received no pleasure; they were as though they had ceased to exist. With such a creed, it is no wonder that the Mexicans became a nation of warriors.

The government of the Mexicans was a pure despotism; the power of the monarch was absolute. When one king died, another was immediately elected by the nobles, from the royal family, to fill his place. After the new king had been solemnly installed, and had taken an oath to govern according to the religion and laws of his ancestors, he made an expedition to obtain prisoners to sacrifice at his coronation. A reign thus barbarously commenced could not long be peaceable. In fact, the Mexican kings were always engaged in fighting with their enemies or in oppressing their subjects.

The laws which they made were very severe. Almost all crimes were punished with death. Young persons who were guilty of getting drunk were put to death; but the nobles in a much more cruel manner than the common people; for they said the former sinned more in not setting a good example. But old men, after they had arrived at the age of seventy years, were allowed to drink as much as they pleased; for they said that it was a pity to deprive them of this pleasure, when it could do them no harm. Slanderers were punished by having a part of their lip cut off, and sometimes also of their ears, to show the danger of speaking or listening to evil.

We have before said that the Mexicans were a nation of warriors. They believed that all who died in battle enjoyed the greatest happiness hereafter, and therefore the prospect of such a death had nothing terrible in it.

The armor which the soldiers wore to defend themselves from the weapons of the enemy, consisted of a thick coat of cotton, which covered the body and part of the legs and arms; a helmet or headpiece, made to imitate the head of a tiger, in order to inspire terror into their enemies; and a shield made of strong canes interwoven with thick cotton threads.

[Illustration]

The weapons of attack were bows and arrows, slings, spears, and swords. All these, except the last, were very much like those used in our armies at the present day. The sword of the Mexicans was very different from that used by the soldiers of our modern times.

The standards of the Mexicans were formed of gold and beautiful feathers; each company had its particular standard, which they preserved with great care. But the grand ensign of the empire was an object of especial veneration; when this was lost, all hope of victory was given up, and the soldiers threw down their arms and fled. We have already told how Cortez took advantage of this feeling in the natives, and thus saved his little army.

Since the people of Anahuac were so often engaged in war, it seems natural that they should have a good knowledge of medicine and surgery. This, however, was not the case. The remedies of their physicians consisted mostly of a few simple medicines obtained from herbs. They understood the art of blood-letting, and used for the purpose sharp lancets made of a sort of flint. But their grand specific for all kinds of sickness was the vapor-bath. It was built of unburnt bricks, very much in the form of a dome. It was about six feet high and thirty round. At one side was an entrance, large enough to allow a man to enter by creeping on his hands and knees. Opposite to the entrance was a small furnace, which was joined to the bath by a kind of soft stone, easily heated. When a person was about to take the bath, a fire was kindled in the furnace, by which the soft stones were made hot. Then, taking off all his clothes except his girdle, he entered, and threw water on the heated stones. A cloud of steam at once filled the bath, and the patient stretched himself on a mat or cushion, which was spread in the centre of the room, to enjoy the soft and copious perspiration into which he was instantly thrown. This vapor-bath often proved an effectual remedy for some of their most obstinate diseases.

We have now given a short account of the history, manners and customs of the ancient Mexicans. Their character you can easily estimate, from what we have told you concerning them. You must not imagine, however, that, like the Indians of some parts of the United States, they are entirely extinct. Though much reduced by the cruelty and oppression of their conquerors, yet they still form much the largest class of inhabitants in the Mexican republic. Perhaps the long period of their slavery and degradation has been intended by a just Providence as a punishment for their own cruelty toward their conquered enemies. But, now that they have been declared free citizens of a great and independent republic, with the same rights and privileges as their former masters, we may hope that the night of their humiliation is passed, and that a brighter day is about to dawn on the minds of the poor degraded Mexicans, than ever shone even on the first glorious years of the reign of Montezuma.

House-Building.

What a strange thing it would be if we had no houses to live in, and were forced to sleep on the tops of trees, in caves, or among the clefts and crannies of rocks and mountains! Many ages ago, mankind, then in a savage state, were obliged to make use of such wild retreats; they had not learned to _build houses_; and were, in this respect, not so well off as the birds, which, you know, mostly manage to build a nice warm nest, in which they bring up their young. The first houses were, in all probability, cut out of the sides of crags or banks; after this it was found, perhaps, more advantageous to build them of branches of trees, set up on end, and leaning together in a point at the top; movable houses were also made of the skins of beasts, stretched over a pole of a similar form. These were the earliest tents; but how long ago it is since the eastern nations, who were the first inhabitants of this earth, had such kinds of habitations, is not known.

We know that, at the present day, all savage nations have rude houses. The Icelanders build them of snow, as seen in pictures; and the Indians of America, as well as the savages of the South Sea islands, of the wilds of Africa and New Holland, form their huts in the rudest manner. We know, also, that the Irish _mud cabins_, and the Scotch _hovels_, and some of the English _cottages_, are not a great deal better than the huts of savages.

But, if you look at the buildings in our towns and cities, you will find them to be very different from the rude hut, wigwam, or snowhouse; you will observe that they are much larger, and of far greater beauty.

It is of some interest for us to inquire how houses are _built_, and about the materials of which they are _made_; and, lastly, of the different styles of architecture: for houses and temples were built of different forms in different ages, and are now very different in _Asia_ from what they are in _Europe_ and _America_.

Houses have _walls_, _roofs_, _doors_, _chimneys_, _rooms_, _passages_, _stairs_, _floors_, _closets_, _sinks_, _cellars_, _pantries_, _kitchens_.

The _roof_ of a house is the top of it, and is built aslant, so that when it rains the water may run off. A frame-work of wood is made, which is first covered with boards, and afterwards with shingles or slates.

The _walls_ of a house are made either of bricks or stones, laid one on the top of the other, and joined together by cement or mortar, or of wood.

The _chimneys_ proceed from the fireplace to the top of the house, and come out through the roof, above which they are carried up several feet; on their top is often an earthen pot, called a chimney-pot. The use of a chimney is to carry off the smoke. Chimneys have not been thought of above a thousand years; before this time the smoke used to go out at a hole in the roof. This is the case now in the worst of Scotch and Irish cabins.

The _doors_ of houses are made of _pine_ or _oak_, and sometimes of _mahogany_; they swing on _hinges_, and have _locks_ and _catches_ to fasten them. Their use is to keep the cold out, and to connect one room with another, or the house with the street.

The _rooms_ of houses are of various kinds. The houses of very poor people serve them for parlor and kitchen, and bed-room, which is very unhealthy. The house of a tradesman generally consists of a shop, a back parlor, a drawing-room, and several bed-rooms, with kitchen and cellar.

The houses of people who are rich consist of a great variety of apartments:--a saloon, a hall, a picture-gallery, a large dining-room, library, dressing rooms, breakfast-rooms, and many others. The house, or dwelling, of a king, a prince, is called a _palace_, which is generally very large, and contains many other apartments, fitted up in the most splendid manner.

The _passages_ in a house lead from one room to another; the stairs lead to the bed-chambers, or other upper apartments; the floors of the rooms are generally made of pine or oak. The former are usually covered with painted canvass called _oil-cloth_, and the latter with _carpet_.

The _cellar_ of a house is generally under ground, and is used for keeping coals, wood, beer, and wine in. _Closets_ are for the purpose of placing clothes and linen in security; the _pantry_ and _larder_ are for provisions of various kinds; and the _kitchen_ is a place to cook our food in.

Edwin, the Rabbit-Fancier.

“Edwin was a very tender-hearted boy, and very eager about a thing when he took it into his head; but his enthusiasm very often left him just at the time it ought to have remained with him. Thus he never pursued any study or amusement for any length of time with profit to himself, and often fell into very grievous errors.

“‘Oh! dear mamma,’ said he one day to his mother, ‘I do wish so that I had something for a pet; there is Charles Jones has a sweet little bird, and cousin James has a squirrel. I should so like something for a pet. Do, mamma, buy me something--a Guinea pig, or a couple of pigeons, or a rabbit. Oh! I saw such a beautiful white rabbit yesterday!

“‘Ay, my dear,’ said his mamma, ‘I am afraid you would soon grow tired of your rabbit, as you did of your gun, and bow and arrow, and ship, and rocking-horse.’

“‘Oh, but a rabbit is quite different, mamma; you can love a rabbit, you know, and coax it, and feed it, and make it happy. I should go out early in the morning, and pick some nice clover for it, and some thistle, and dandelion, and marsh-mallows. I know how to feed rabbits--I have learned all about it. I must not give them too much green stuff, but some nice bran and oats; and then I could make a little trough for it to eat from, you know; and--and--’

“I am sure, my dear, it would be too much trouble to you; rabbits require a great deal of care and attention, and you so soon get tired of anything you take up, that I fear it would soon suffer from neglect.’

“‘I am sure I should never _neglect_ it, mamma; and, if you will give me a shilling, I can buy a beauty--a real white French rabbit, with red eyes, and a coat like swansdown. Do, dear mamma, give me a shilling.’

“‘No, my dear,’ said she, ‘I really must refuse you.’

“Now, although Edwin was a little boy, he said to himself, ‘I know it is only because mamma wishes to save her money; ’tis not because she really thinks I shall neglect the rabbit, but because she does not like to part with her money.’--He thought himself very cunning; did he not?

“So Edwin began to pout and whine, and to tease his mamma, being determined to let her have no peace.

“‘You know, mamma,’ said he, ‘I shall be so fond of it; I will make it a house; and then I could cut down some grass, and dry it, and make hay for it to lie upon; and I could sow some oats for it in my garden; I should not want anything else to amuse me all the year round.’

“Whether to humor Edwin, or to teach him a lesson, I will not say, but his mamma gave him a shilling, and off he ran, and purchased the milk-white, red-eyed rabbit.

“Joyful enough was he when he brought it home: he paraded it round the house, showed it to every member of the family, housemaid, gardener, footman, and cook; and everybody praised the rabbit, and said it was a most beautiful creature.

“The next morning Edwin rose betimes, and began to look for wood to build his rabbit-hutch. He procured saw, nails, and hammer; and at last found some old planks, and began to saw them, and cut them, and chisel and plane, till his little arms ached again.

“He had soon cut two or three pieces of board up, but to no purpose; one was too short, and another too long; a third had a knot in it; and a fourth was spoiled in splitting. Vexed with his want of success, Edwin said, ‘I shall not make him a house to-night--he must be content with being fastened in the coal-hole to-night--he will have plenty of room to run about.’

“So Bunny was put into the coal-hole with a handful of cabbage-leaves, and told to make himself happy till the morning; and, as it happened to be a holiday, Edwin went to amuse himself by letting off fireworks.

“In the morning Edwin went to the coal-hole to look after Bunny. There it was, sure enough; but instead of its being a beautiful white rabbit, by hopping about among the coals it had become almost as black as the coals themselves.

“‘Well, I never!’ said the little boy--‘what a dirty little thing it is;’ and so he tried to catch it; but Bunny, not liking to be caught, led the youngster a fine dance in the coal-hole, and at last he fell over a large lump of coal, and dirtied his clean frill and white apron.

“It was difficult to say which was the dirtiest of the two, Edwin or his rabbit. The little boy, however, being quite out of patience, made no further effort, but shut the coal-hole door, and in great trouble ran to the nursery-maid to put him into cleaner trim. He did not go again into the place where the rabbit was that day, and so the poor thing was kept without food, for Edwin totally forgot he had not fed his pet.

“However, the next day he again repaired to the place, and, having caught Bunny, took it into the stable-yard, and put it into an unoccupied pig-sty. The first intention of making a house was quite given up, and Edwin began to think his rabbit a great plague; he, however, gave it some _more cabbage-leaves_, and left it.

“The fact was, Edwin was getting tired of his rabbit; he, however, bought it a few oats, and gave it a little hay. He went out for a few mornings and gathered a little clover, but in less than a week this was thought to be a great deal of trouble; besides which, the rabbit seemed lame, and did not look so pretty as it did at first.

“At last, Edwin quite forgot his rabbit for two days, and when he went to look at it he was surprised to find it lying on its side. He called, Bunny, Bunny. The poor thing looked at him, and seemed pleased to see him, for its long ears moved as if it was.

“Edwin took it up; it seemed to have lost the use of its hind legs; it squeaked when it was touched; and so the little boy laid it down again. He felt it all over--it was very thin, and seemed half starved.

“Edwin now ran and got a saucer-full of oats, and placed it beside the poor thing; he also ran to the next field, and plucked some nice sow-thistle, and gave it to eat. Bunny looked grateful, and tried to eat, but could not.

“Edwin, in placing his hand down by its side, felt the beatings of its heart; it went beat, beat, beat--throb, throb, throb, quicker than a watch; and every now and then its head twitched, and the skin of its jaw drew up, as if it were in great pain.

“And yet the poor animal seemed glad to have some one by its side, and rubbed its nose against Edwin’s hand; and then it panted again, and its eyes grew dim: it was dying. Poor little Edwin now began to cry.

“‘Oh! my poor dear, dear, dear Bunny,’ said he, ‘what shall I do to make you well?--oh! what would I give? Oh! I have killed you, for I know I have. Oh! my poor dear Bunny--let me kiss you, dear Bunny.’ Here the little fellow stooped down to kiss his rabbit. Just at that moment it gave a struggle--in the next it was dead.

“Edwin’s eyes were full of tears, and when he could see through them, and found out what had happened, he broke out into loud sobs and cries, till he roused the whole house. ‘Oh! my dear rabbit--oh! I have killed my rabbit--oh! what shall I do?’ he uttered in deepest grief.

“‘Ay,’ said his mamma, who was called to the spot by his outcries; ‘I feared it would be thus:--who would think a house-bred rabbit could live in a damp pig-sty? The poor thing has been destroyed by _neglect_.’

“‘Oh, yes, dear mamma, do not scold me; I know I have been very naughty. Oh, I do love my dear rabbit;--I love it more now it is dead than I did when it was alive;--but is it really dead, mamma?--no; is it?--it is quite warm, and may get well again,--say it will, there’s a dear, dear mother;’ and then he cried again.

“The rabbit was, however, dead; and had caught its death in the way Edwin’s mamma supposed, by being ill fed, and kept in a damp place, by thoughtless, if not cruel _neglect_.

“Edwin was overcome with grief,--but it was now too late. Sad was the next night to him, for something told him he had been cruel to that which he had promised to love. He got no sleep; and early in the morning he arose, and went to the place where his pet was laid.

“He wept all the next day; and, in the evening, he dug a grave in his own little garden, close by the side of a young rose tree. Then he wrapped the body in some nice hay, and laid it in its narrow cell, and placed rose-leaves upon it, and covered it gently with the earth;--and his heart was like to burst when he heaped the mould over it, and he was forced to pause in his task by the full gushing of his tears.

“‘My child,’ said his mamma, who watched him at his sorrowful task, ‘if you had taken half the trouble for Bunny, when alive, as you do now he is dead, he would have been alive now.’

“‘Yes, yes, dear mamma,--I know--I know; but do tell me, pray do,--will not rabbits go to heaven? Is there not some place where they can be happy? I hope my poor dear Bunny may;’--and here the little fellow sobbed again.

“‘Give me a kiss, my dear boy,’ said his mamma; ‘come, leave this spot;’ and so she led him gently away from the rabbit’s grave.”

Merry’s Adventures.