(_Anales del Museo
Nacional_, Tom. ii, p. 248).]

Sad, indeed, was Quetzalcoatl the next morning.

"I have sinned," he said; "the stain on my name can never be erased. I am
not fit to rule this people. Let them build for me a habitation deep under
ground; let them bury my bright treasures in the earth; let them throw the
gleaming gold and shining stones into the holy fountain where I take my
daily bath."

All this was done, and Quetzalcoatl spent four days in his underground
tomb. When he came forth he wept and told his followers that the time had
come for him to depart for Tlapallan, the Red Land, Tlillan, the Dark
Land, and Tlatlallan, the Fire Land, all names of one locality.

He journeyed eastward until he came to a place where the sky, and land,
and water meet together.[1] There his attendants built a funeral pile, and
he threw himself into the flames. As his body burned his heart rose to
heaven, and after four days became the planet Venus.[2]

[Footnote 1: Designated in the Aztec original by the name _Teoapan
Ilhuicaatenco_, from _teotl_, divine, _atl_, water, _pan_, in or near,
_ilhuicac_, heaven, _atenco_, the waterside: "Near the divine water, where
the sky meets the strand."]

[Footnote 2: The whole of this account is from the _Anales de
Cuauhtitlan_, pp. 16-22.]

That there is a profound moral significance in this fiction all will see;
but I am of opinion that it is accidental and adventitious. The means that
Tezcatlipoca employs to remove Quetzalcoatl refer to the two events that
mark the decline of day. The sun is reflected by a long lane of beams in
the surface waters of lake or sea; it loses the strength of its rays and
fails in vigor; while the evening mists, the dampness of approaching
dewfall, and the gathering clouds obscure its power and foretell the
extinction which will soon engulf the bright luminary. As Quetzalcoatl
cast his shining gold and precious stones into the water where he took his
nightly bath, or buried them in underground hiding places, so the sun
conceals his glories under the waters, or in the distant hills, into which
he seems to sink. As he disappears at certain seasons, the Star of Evening
shines brightly forth amid the lingering and fading rays, rising, as it
were, from the dying fires of the sunset.

To this it may be objected that the legend makes Quetzalcoatl journey
toward the East, and not toward the sunset. The explanation of this
apparent contradiction is easy. Th