At night, when festivals are going on in the grassy squares
around the suburban churches, there is really much to admire. A
great deal that is peculiar in the land and the life of its
inhabitants can be seen best at those times. The cheerful white
church is brilliantly lighted up, and the music, not of a very
solemn description, peals forth from the open windows and doors.
Numbers of young gaudily-dressed negresses line the path to the
church doors with stands of liqueurs, sweetmeats, and cigarettes,
which they sell to the outsiders. A short distance off is heard
the rattle of dice-boxes and roulette at the open-air gambling-
stalls. When the festival happens on moonlit nights, the whole
scene is very striking to a newcomer. Around the square are
groups of tall palm trees, and beyond it, over the illuminated
houses, appear the thick groves of mangoes near the suburban
avenues, from which comes the perpetual ringing din of insect
life. The soft tropical moonlight lends a wonderful charm to the
whole.

The inhabitants are all out, dressed in their best. The upper
classes, who come to enjoy the fine evening and the general
cheerfulness, are seated on chairs around the doors of friendly
houses. There is no boisterous conviviality, but a quiet
enjoyment seems to be felt everywhere, and a gentle courtesy
rules among all classes and colours. I have seen a splendidly-
dressed colonel, from the President's palace, walk up to a
mulatto, and politely ask his permission to take a light from his
cigar. When the service is over, the church bells are set
ringing, a shower of rockets mounts upwards, the bands strike up,
and parties of coloured people in the booths begin their dances.
About ten o'clock the Brazilian national air is played, and all