ight gilded cross and pinnacle, as we gazed on this picture
through the softening haze of approaching twilight,--a view which we
have hardly, if ever, seen surpassed.

In ascending the many steps which lead to the battlements of
Chapultepec, one of our party, a Boston lady, fairly gasped for breath,
declaring that some serious illness threatened her; but when she was
quietly informed that she was about forty times as high above the sea as
the vane on Park Street Church in her native city, she realized what it
was that caused a temporary difficulty in breathing; it was the
extremely rarefied atmosphere, to which she was not accustomed. At such
an elevation, in the latitude of Boston, the temperature would be almost
arctic; but it is to be remembered that this high table-land of the
valley of Mexico is under the Tropic of Cancer, and therefore enjoys
almost a perpetual spring, though it is extremely dry. The atmosphere
is, in fact, so devoid of moisture that food or fresh meat will dry up,
but will not mould or spoil, however long it may be kept.

On the left of Chapultepec lies the attractive suburban village of
Tacubaya, already referred to, where the wealthy citizens of the capital
have summer residences, some of which are really so elegant as to have a
national reputation. These are thrown open to strangers on certain days,
to exhibit their accumulation of rare and beautiful objects of art, and
the luxuries of domestic life.

As we left Chapultepec by a narrow road winding through the remnant of a
once vast forest, attention was called to the ancient inscriptions upon
the rocks at the eastern base of the hill near the roadside. They are in
half relief; and, so far as we could decipher them, they seemed to be
Toltec rather than Aztec. They are engraven on the natural rock, and are
of a character quite unintelligible to the present generation. For years
these were hidden by the dense undergrowth, being on the edge of the
plain, near the spot where the Americans clambered up the steep
acclivity when they stormed the castle. The shrubbery has now been
cleared away so as to render them distinctly visible.

Toluca, the capital of the State of Mexico, is easily reached by a
narrow gauge railway, being less than fifty miles from the national
capital. It is a well-built and thriving town, containing about
twenty-five thousand inhabitants, more or less, and situated at an
elevation of about eight thousand and six hundred fee