towns which they had passed, and saw the causeways which on three sides connected with the mainland. Beneath them lay a vast expanse of terraced roofs, intersected by streets and canals teeming with passengers and canoes. Here and there rose palatial edifices and towering temples, interspersed with open squares, and with gardens shaded by trees and relieved by the silvery jets of the fountain. At their feet lay the market through which they had just passed, alive with busy Lilliputians, whose talk and cries reached their ears in a confused murmur. Cortés could not fail to be impressed by scenes so varied and so attractive, but the æsthetic aspect was in him speedily overshadowed by the practical sense of the military leader. Then rose on high his soul as he thought to secure for Spain so rich an inheritance as the great city with its vast population, and turning to Father Olmedo he suggested that the site ought to be obtained for a church; but the prudent friar remonstrated that the emperor appeared to be in no mood to listen to such a proposal.
Cortés accordingly contented himself with asking to see the idols, and after consulting the priests Montezuma led them past the piscina with the vestal fire into the chapel. Withdrawing a tasselled curtain he displayed the images, glittering with ornaments of gold and precious stones, which at first drew the attention of the beholders from the hideous form and features. Before them stood the stone of sacrifice, still reeking with gore, and around lay the instruments for securing the human victim and for tearing open the breast. On one altar could be seen three hearts, and on the other five, offered to the idols, and even now warm and palpitating with life. The interior walls were so smeared with human blood as to obscure their original color, and to emit a fetid odor which made the Spaniards glad to reach the open air again.
Forgetting his prudence, Cortés expressed his won-
