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The Miserere is sung in this chapel, and the candles are extinguished one by one; the shades of evening take the place of the sun; the figures stand out in bold relief, and almost descend from their lofty elevation. The effect is still further heightened by the wailing notes of the Miserere, and the deep voices of 133 the singers, and the feeble light of one or two wax-candles.

Michael Angelo borrowed the idea from the frescoes of Andrea Orcagna, in the Campo Santo of Pisa, painted in 1335; but the old master was far grander and more original than his imitator.

Being thus acquainted with the agricultural resources of Brazil, let us penetrate the fazenda, and observe, in the first place, the life of the planter. This life is an active one for a proprietor, who has decided to attend to his own affairs. At daybreak he rises, mounts his horse, and, attended by a domestic, avails himself of the coolness of the morning to inspect the work of the negroes and visit his grounds. Sometimes he has to repair a bridge carried away by a storm, to make a new road through the forest, to change a pasto or set a machine in operation.

Returning about nine o'clock he hastily arranges his toilet, and passing through the varanda, on the way to breakfast, takes with him all the guests whom the chances of the road have brought together during the morning—hunters, colporteurs, muleteers, etc. The travellers who arrive from the cidade bring the news of the day; and hunting, the ministry, the constitution, mules, negroes, every thing is a topic for discussion. The meal being ended, each takes a wooden tooth-pick, (palhito,) and returns to the verandah, and the negroes bring out the coffee. Gradually, silence prevails through the house, the strangers' mules are brought, and they continue their journey. The fazendoiro takes advantage of this opportunity to continue his inspection, if any thing outside demands his attention. If not, he returns into the house and takes a siesta, reads the newspapers, hears the reports of the feitors, and attends to his correspondence.

At three o'clock the table is again spread. The personnel of the guests has undergone some changes. Instead of the colporteur, there figures some city gentleman, who, by order of his physician, has come to stay in the country till the hot weather is over. A family of emigrants have come to ask the hospitality of the posada for the night. With guests of so different origin, conversation cannot languish. The time thus passes till the heat of the sun be gins to diminish. About four or five o'clock they all go out to inhale the evening breeze; the business of the day is over; it is prolonged only for the negroes.

At nightfall tea is served. All travellers, overtaken by dusk in the vicinity