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one of his friends, a rich planter of the province, to give him the votes of all the free men upon his estate. The rendering of such services is never refused among the cultivated classes in Brazil, where the old traditions of chivalry seem to have taken refuge, being gradually driven out of the Old World by the incessant march of revolutions. It was therefore agreed that all the people of the fazenda should be invited to a banquet a few days before the elections, and that they should be reminded of the day fixed for voting, their quality of free men, which gave them a right to approach the ribboned urn, and the name of the candidate whom they were to support.

On the day appointed there was seen, at sunset, the strangest gathering of human figures that the wildest imagination of a fancy painter ever conceived—old negroes, who, having obtained their liberty upon the death of their former master, had rapidly degenerated into their native indolence; cabocles with glossy hair and of a coppery complexion, calling themselves civilized because they wore pantaloons and drank cachaçga; and lastly the hybrids, resulting from the mingling of all the races that have set their feet upon the soil of the New World, since the time of Pizarro and Cabral, to ravage it with bloody fury or fertilize it with their sweat. These bestial figures, these calloused hands, these feet, whose horny skin defied the bite of serpents, these beards, as untrimmed as the forests from which they came, these strange accoutrements, the aspect of the place, the object of the meeting—all contributed to form an indescribable scene, Nobody was absent from the rendezvous. A banquet to the mountain guests was so rare a thing, and especially a banquet given by the master! Long tables had been prepared in the immense rooms where the coffee was stored, Hogs served up whole, as at feasts in the time of Suetonius, and feijão or beans, in immense earthen pots, and large calabashes of manioc, formed a splendid entertainment to these uncultivated natures. Large pitchers of cachaça were circulated from time to time. Hogs, beans, manioc, brandy, were all soon disposed of. The fazendeiro watched the hearty disposition of his guests, and when he thought the proper moment had come, he stationed himself in the midst of them, and in a few words explained the object of the meeting.

'My boys,' said he, 'I am here to ask a little favor of you. In a week you will go to vote. As you do not trouble yourselves much with polities, the name of the candidate is probably of little consequence to you. Therefore, if you would do me a service, you will vote for Senhor X———, who is my intimate friend, and to whom I have pledged my word in your name.'

He had not yet finished speaking when most of his auditors cried out they would vote that very instant; that the senhor was their father, and that they would refuse nothing to a master like him. It was nine o'clock in the evening, and the town was distant several leagues; yet it was difficult to make these people comprehend that the election was not to take place till the next week, and that a vote before that time would be illegal. They could not conceive why every thing should not give way to their master, whose power had in their eyes no rival but that of the Emperor. The greater part of them at length reseated themselves to finish emptying the pitchers; but the more intelligent profited by the opportunity to surround the planter, and make inquiries about the elections, instructing themselves about the proceedings, the candidates, voting, the constitution, the opposition, etc. The fazendeiro had plenty to do to answer all their questions.

One of these dwellers of the forest, with a patriarchal beard, made himself