cratic portion of the multitude eagerly availed themselves. Mingling with all parties were ragged-looking venders of curiosities, clamorous old beggars, and younger ones whose brilliant, laughing black eyes contradicted the carnest appeal of the lips.

Should our taste or curiosity lead us to follow the mob to the Mount road we behold one of those singular exhibitions which excite almost to frenzy -a hideous, straw-stuffed figure, or effigy, of Pontius Pilate, tied on the back of a poor, miserable, lean donkey. Amidst the wildest shouts and fiercest turmoil this creature is dragged forward, every one taxing his inventive faculties to discover new indignities, by which to express his feelings of horror and disgust for the original. While the tumultuous throng thus parade through the principal streets of the town, the bay is seen covered by hundreds of boats, people of almost every nation in Europe reclining beneath their awnings as they sweep slowly over the blue waves toward the Loo Rock, or idly glide in front of that well-known point, beneath which on the sands a gallows had been erected in the morning. Some hours passed, however, and there was no occurrence either to gratify the taste or arouse the attention of the pleasure seekers. The sun was drawing near the verge of the horizon, and the sea, assuming the most intense shades of crimson, gold, and purple, differed only from the magnificent canopy which it mirrored in that it gleamed with a more wondrous splendor, as if a veil of diamonds floated and trembled over its broad expanse. Not alone the sea, however, but the whole landscape was bathed in the rich amber and purple floods of light which on that evening streamed down from the ever changing firmament. The sublime mountains of Pico Ruivo and Pico Grande were crowned with radiance, the graceful hills, with their unnumbered giant flowers, their gardens and vineyards, their rivulets and waterfalls, glowed in the lustrous beams, while the brown sands on the

semi-circular beach, reaching from the picturesque basalts of Garajaô to Ponta da Cruz, glittered as if a shower of diamond sparklets had fallen on them. At length loud and prolonged shouts, mingling with the music of military bands, were heard approaching from the town, and immediately after a riotous and excited crowd, amongst which appeared hundreds of masquers, came pressing forward with extravagant gestures, and driving before them toward the gallows the ill-used donkey and its foul and hideous burthen.

A general movement at once took place among the boats, as the crew of each sought to obtain the most favorable position for witnessing the revolting spectacle of hanging the effigy, which was accomplished with all the appalling ceremonies which might have been deemed necessary, or which the law might have demanded, had the Governor of the Jews been there in person.

The hatred of the exulting mob being at length satiated, the figure was cut down and cast into the sea, calling forth a last volley of execration as it rolled and floundered on the long blue swells, or momentarily sunk out of sight in the troughs, while the ebbing tide carried it out to the deep.

CHAPTER V.

Ir may appear strange, perhaps even incredible, that the lower classes of Madeirans should have leisure, from their humble duties and the labors required by their daily necessities, to attend at so many festas and public ceremonies as we shall have occasion to describe, and to indulge beside in their extravagant fancy for golden ornaments. But the seeming enigma is easily solved. In the first place, the men of the peasant class leave home for Demara every year, remaining away, at high wages, from six to eight months, and then returning with money sufficient to enable them to indulge

their families during the remainder of the year in their oriental taste for festas and finery. Secondly, almost all the manual occupations connected with agriculture devolve on the women, so that the absence of either husbands, sons, or brothers neither retards nor diminishes the autumn fruits. Added to this, they employ themselves during the evening hours, and at other seasons when out-door labor is either impossible or unnecessary, in those arts to which female faculties are particularly appropriate. Nothing can exceed the exquisite beauty of the embroidery on cambric and lace executed by some of the peasant women, and which comes from their skilful fingers so perfectly white and pure that it is fit for the wear of a princess the moment it is freed from the paper on which the design had been traced, and over which it had been worked. Others, not possessing such delicate taste as the embroiderers, exert their ingenuity in knitting shawls, and veils, and pin-cushion covers, in black or white thread, drawing on their own imaginations for new and curious patterns; while some few devote their leisure time to netting black silk shawls and scarfs, for which they also invent the designs.

The earnings of the women by the sale of these articles to strangers are considerable, and so completely at their own disposal that they can independently indulge, whenever opportunities offer, in their taste for ornament and emotional spectacles. The wear and tear, however, of such a mode of life deprive them at an early period of their native beauty, leaving them at twenty-five little more than that grace and freedom of attitude which they retain to the close of the longest life.

The men also have their handicrafts, and the emoluments arising from their exercise; and those of them who are either too old or too young, or too indolent, or too sincerely attached to home to seek the toils of labor and their reward in Demara, employ themselves in making articles of

inlaid wood, such as writing-desks, work-boxes, paper-cutters, and pentrays. The designs on many of these give evidence of refined and skilful taste, while others only indicate a fantastic ingenuity. The most perfect of these manufactures are eagerly secur ed for the Portuguese market by agents, who generally make an honest estimate of their value, while those of less merit are set aside till some of the visitors to Madeira proportion their worth by their own abundant wealth.

This digression has been so long that, instead of returning now to the midnight wanderers mentioned at the close of the last chapter, I shall request my readers to imagine it ten o'clock A.M. on Saturday morning, and, consequently, two hours before the commencement of the Sabbath of the Madeirans. Once more the Praca da Constitutionel is filled with an eager and picturesque throng-peasants, artisans, aristocrats, merchants, masqueraders, beggars, and curiosity. venders all mingled together, and all, either from motives of piety or inquisitiveness, once more seeking admission to the cathedral, whose fine proportions and gorgeous ornaments are still veiled in thick darkness.

the

By some magic influence wealthier portion of the multitude have all obtained entrance, and then, the cathedral being full, the door is forcibly closed. Directly this occurs the crowd disperse, and while strangers are still trying to unravel the mystery of such unusual self-denial, troops of little children and young girls are entering the Praca dressed in white, wearing silver-tissue wings, snowy festive wreaths, and carrying on their arms beautiful baskets of cane-work filled with ranunculuses and lilies. Boys in embroidered tunics and carrying silver censers follow these, and presently numbers of these men who had left that the children might take up their proper positions, now return, having in the meantime provided themselves with fire-arms and rockets.

While all these changes take place without, preachers are succeeding each other every half hour in the pulpit within the cathedral. At length one loud sonorous stroke on a gong, or some other metallic substance, is heard from the sacristy, announcing the hour of noon, and then in an instant, as if by magic, the wooden blinds without and the black curtains within are gone from the windows, the veil which had concealed the altar disappears, and a blaze of light fills the edifice, displaying a scene resplendent with gold and gems, tapers and flowers; while simultaneously with the pouring in of the light, thrilling and enthusiastic voices singing, "Christ is risen! Christ is risen!" join the peal which, like a roar of triumph, had burst from the organ. When the multitude have sufficiently recovered the stunning effects of this scene to separate cause and effect, they perceive that every pillar and column from pedestal to chapiter is enwreathed with gorgeous ranunculuses and snowy lilies, mingled with the rich green leaves of the allegro campo, that crowns and garlands of silver leaves and artificial dew-drops are scattered profusely, yet with artistic taste, over the high altar and the various side altars; while pendent from that masterpiece of art-the sculptured ceiling of native juniperare rich chaplets of gold leaves and gems, seeming as if ready to fall on and crown the heads of the worshippers.

After a short interval, the bishop, in dazzling robes, wearing his jewelled mitre, and followed by a train of priests in gorgeous vestments, is seen standing in front of the high altar, which on this occasion is covered with a white satin cloth, worked in silver, while huge candelabras, inlaid with precious stones, gleam in front of the recesses known as the diaconicum and the prothesis. In the former are kept the vessels belonging to the altar, and in the other the bread and wine used at the celebration of the mass.

A short mass having been performed by priests and choir, the great door is opened, and the people crowding into the Praca are met by the little children and young girls strewing flowers over the streets, by the graceful youths swinging silver censers and filling the ambient air with light columns of costly incense; by bands playing the most inspiriting airs; by masquers and others in ordinary costume sending off rockets and Roman candles, and by hundreds of artisans bearing fire-arms, the sharp report of which, mingling with the booming of cannon, the braying of trumpets, and the soft chimes of bells, filled the air with a most indescribable din.

In a few moments, however, a cloud overshadows the scene-a cloud which comes not silently but with a whirring, joyful noise, and with the beat of fleet pinions. Every one looks up, and behold, there are the doves-doves in hundreds, sent off by nuns, and monks, and other devotees, to proclaim in their broad-winged flight the welcome news that "Christ is risen!"

Having witnessed all this, and while the joyful excitement is still unabated, you enter your home, imagining that nothing of the peculiar usages or customs of a place in which you are a stranger can follow you there, save the sounds which float in through your shaded windows; but an agreeable surprise awaits you. The Madeirans are too gentle and affectionate in their dispositions to forget in a time of such universal joy even the stranger who may differ from them in religion, and, accordingly, you find awaiting you a little girl, neatly dressed, and bearing in her hands a dish covered with a white lace veil. She has been sent by the nuns, and delivers her present with a suitable message.

Uncovering the dish you sce a wreath of flowers round the edge, and in the centre a little lamb made of sugar, lying amidst almond comfits of

every delicate shade of Magenta, blue, and violet. A wreath of sugar-flowers crowns the head of the lamb, and a similar one graces its neck.

With this picturesque gift you may sometimes receive a present of royal eggs and heavenly bacon. These

singularly-named dishes are composed of eggs and sugar. The first is passed through a hair sieve, falling in a heap of rings and curls on the dish; the other is made into thick slices, and lies on the dish drowned in sweet syrup.

NOTHING in the history of the human mind can be more obvious, even to a superficial observer, than the fact that every age has possessed intellectual features peculiar to itself, growing out of its own particular need. Thus we find the mental activity of one period setting in a strong current toward moral and metaphysical speculation and of another toward scientific discovery. When one has obtained predominance, the other has been measurably neglected.

At the present time, however, the fact is otherwise. The diligence heretofore manifested in the conquest of special subjects is now diffused over a greater area; and the energies of the mind, instead of being concentrated upon the profound and exhaustive knowledge of a few branches of learning, are directed to the acquisition of a general knowledge of many. Hence, popular instruction today, to be successful, must be simplified and condensed, rendered suitable to popular apprehension and fixed at a point demanding the least amount of mental labor and promising immediate and tangible results.

It would need but little argument to show how these conditions of knowledge have been brought about. The vast development and wonderful

Prospectus of The Catholic Publication Society. Tract No. 1, Indifferentism in Religion and its Remedy." No. 2, The Plea of Sincerity." No. 3, The Forlorn Hope." No. 4, "Prisoner of Cayenne."

discoveries of science within the last century, the increase of commercial and mechanical industry, the settlement and growth of America with its vast resources of wealth, are sufficient to account for a material change in the intellectual status of Christendom. Science by increasing the means of human enjoyment has increased the extent of human wants; these, by the force of habit in one class and the stimulus of ambition in another, have become in time absolute necessities. Thus men engage in eager strife to attain what all unite in esteeming essential to human happiness.

Now since our nature has moral and intellectual longings-however subdued by the engrossing occupations of active life-which are still absolute and imperative, up to a certain point, it would seem that instruction to suit the exigency of the times must be conveyed in such a manner and by such means as the opportunities and inclinations of mankind require. You may easily gain attention to truth by a concise, simple mode of addressing the intellect, demanding but little time and not very severe thought, when you cannot secure it by presenting the subject in a more profound way, by more elaborate proofs or by more subtle and comprehensive views. If knowledge, therefore, cannot be imparted in such a way as to suit both the capacity and convenience of men, it can rarely be communicated at all.

What is deemed the most important pursuit of a man's life is that to which he will pay the greatest attention. If he cannot attain mental improvement by means he considers easy and agreeable, the probabilities are that in a great majority of cases he will neglect it. Here, however, there is but little difficulty. Whenever a public necessity is fully recognized, the means of supplying it will not be long wanting. Hence, we see at the present time every art and science reduced to its elementary principles and presented to the public mind in plain rudimentary lessons, so that, while comparatively few are deeply versed in any one subject, the great mass of thinkers are well informed in the general outlines of many.

What has been said with regard to matters more strictly intellectual may be affirmed with almost equal truth of such as are purely moral. You may instruct a hundred men in their duty by means of a tract of ten pages, setting forth incentives to virtue in a cogent argument or forcible appeal, where you would scarcely be able to obtain a hearing from one by means of an elaborate essay on ethics, however able or convincing. Now, it is evident that a duty, carrying all the weight of deep obligation, rests upon those who have the higher interests of mankind at heart to provide for them the means of moral and intellectual improvement; and not only so, but to furnish it in such a shape as shall be most acceptable and productive of the most hopeful and lasting results. That such an obligation exists, is apparent from the general establishment of public and common schools and from the numerous efforts constantly made to disseminate knowledge among the masses. The ends here proposed, however, are animated by a sentiment of general benevolence or political expediency. If, then, we owe to society the moral and intellectual advancement of the people from motives of public interest, surely our obligations are not dimin

ished by those higher considerations which readily suggest themselves to a religious mind.

We are now prepared for the question, Are we doing our duty in this matter? But to bring it nearer home and to address the more immediate circle of our readers, Are we Catholic Christians doing what we know to be required of us in the education of our people with sufficient faithfulness to satisfy an enlightened conscience? Engrossed in more selfish pursuits, have we not rather neglected this business and turned it over to others who are only more responsible than ourselves? We speak to Catholic laymen when we say it is greatly to be feared that we are not wholly blameless. And here one word as regards the relative positions of clergy and laity in the church and their mutual want of co-operation in such things as may fairly come under the charge of both.

Every one knows that among all sects of Protestants the laity perform no inconsiderable amount of labor and share no little responsibility with the pastor. As teachers and superintendents of Sunday-schools, leaders of Bible classes, heads of missionary societies and the like, their influence is much felt and their usefulness highly appreciated by their co-religionists. Among Catholics, where the priests have generally three times the ministerial duty of Protestants to perform, the pastor of a church gets little or no aid from the laity. His mission may extend over twenty miles of territory, and he is expected not only to administer the sacraments to both sick and well, but to do all that is necessary in the religious training of the children. In fact, the instruction of the young is generally looked upon as belonging peculiarly to his office. And yet it cannot be denied that welldisposed laymen of moderate intelligence can at times, acting under his advice and counsel, very materially assist the overworked priest without trenching in the least upon his vo