MARTIN RATTLER. 181

abroad their undying lustre, seeming, in their quiet,
unfading beauty, a gentle satire on the short-lived and
gairish productions of man.

“Mighty purty, no doubt,” exclaimed Barney. “Is
this the Imperor’s birth-day ?”

“No,” replied the hermit, shaking his head ; “ that is
the way in which the false priests amuse the people.
The poor Indian and the Negro, and, indeed, the ig-
norant Brazilian, thinks it very grand; and the priests
let them think it is pleasing to the God of heaven.
Ah! here comes an old Negro; we will ask him.”

Several country people, in varied and picturesque
costumes, hurried past the travellers towards the
village; and as they came to a foot-path that joined
the road, an old Negro approached them. Saluting
him in the Portuguese language, the hermit said,
“Friend, why do they let off rockets to-night ?”

“Por Dios” (for God), answered the old man, look-
ing and pointing upwards with grave solemnity.
Without vouchsafing another word, he hurried away.

“So they think,” said the hermit, “and so they are
taught by the priests. Music, noise, and fire-works
please these ignorant people; and so the priests, who
are mostly as ignorant as the people, tell them it is a
good part of religious ceremony.” .

Presently a band of young girls came laughing and