newyear's day. 



307 



with all the infirmities of human passion, has one breath- 

 ed resistance to the Constitution and laws. The world 

 has never presented such a spectacle, such a proof of 

 the capacity of the people for self-government. Long 

 may it continue ! May the tongue wither that dares 

 preach resistance to the ballot-boxes ; and may the 

 moral influence of our example reach our distracted 

 sister republics, staying the sword of persecution in the 

 hands of victors, and crushing the spirit of revolution 

 in a defeated party. 



January 1, 1840. This day, so full of home asso- 

 ciations — snow, and red noses, and blue lips out of 

 doors, and blazing fires and beauteous faces within — 

 opened in Guatimala like a morning in spring. The 

 sun seemed rejoicing in the beauty of the land it shone 

 upon. The flowers were blooming in the courtyards, 

 and the mountains, visible above the tops of the houses, 

 were smiling in verdure. The bells of thirty-eight 

 churches and convents proclaimed the coming of an- 

 other year. The shops were shut as on a Sunday ; 

 there was no market in the plaza. Gentlemen well 

 dressed, and ladies in black mantas, were crossing it to 

 attend grand mass in the Cathedral. Mozart's music 

 swelled through the aisles. A priest in a strange tongue 

 proclaimed morality, religion, and love of country. The 

 floor of the church was thronged with whites, Mestit- 

 zoes, and Indians. On a high bench opposite the pul- 

 pit sat the chief of the state, and by his side Carrera, 

 again dressed in his rich uniform. I leaned against a pil- 

 lar opposite and watched his face ; and if I read him 

 right, he had forgotten war and the stains of blood upon 

 his hands, and his very soul was filled with fanatic en- 

 thusiasm; exactly as the priests would have him. I did 

 verily believe that he was honest in his impulses, and 



