TH!E SACRAMENT FOR THE DYING. 



353 



enclosed by living fences of trees bearing flowers, with 

 roads sixty feet wide ; and, except the small horsepath, 

 the roads had a sod of unbroken green. The deep 

 green of the coffee-plantations, the sward of the roads, 

 and the vistas through the trees at all the crossroads 

 V. were lovely ; at a distance on each side were mount- 

 ains, and in front, rising above all, was the great Vol- 

 cano of Cartago. It was about the same hour as when, 

 the day before, from the top of the mountain of Agua- 

 cate, I had looked down into great ravines and over 

 the tops of high mountains, and seen the Pacific Ocean. 

 This was as soft as that was wild ; and it addressed it- 

 self to other senses than the sight, for it was not, like 

 the rest of Central America, retrograding and going to 

 ruin, but smiling as the reward of industry. Seven 

 years before the whole plain was an open waste. 



At the end of this table of land we saw San .Jose on 

 a plain below us. On the top of the hill we passed a 

 house with an arch of flowers before the door, indica- 

 ting that within lay one waiting to receive the last sac- 

 rament before going to his final account in another 

 world. Descending, we saw at a distance a long pro- 

 cession, headed by a cross with the figure of the Sa- 

 viour crucified. It approached with the music of vio- 

 lins and a loud chorus of voices, and was escorting the 

 priest to the house of the dying man. As it approach- 

 ed, horsemen pulled off their hats and pedestrians fell 

 on their knees. We met it near a narrow bridge at the 

 foot of .the hill. The sun was low, but its last rays 

 were scorching to the naked head. The priest was 

 carried in a sedan chair. We waited till he passed, 

 and taking advantage of a break in the procession, 

 crossed the bridge, passed a long file of men and long- 

 er of women, and being some distance ahead, I put on 

 Vol. I.—Yy 



