At the end of the Aztec or Toltec cycle of fifty-two years,--for it is not accurately ascertained to which of the tribes the astronomical science of Tenochtitlan is to be attributed,--these primitive children of the New World believed that the world was in danger of instant destruction. Accordingly, its termination became one of their most serious and awful epochs, and they anxiously awaited the moment when the sun would be blotted out from the heavens, and the globe itself once more resolved unto chaos. As the cycle ended in the winter, the season of the year, with its drearier sky and colder air, in the lofty regions of the valley, added to the gloom that fell upon the hearts of the people. On the last day of the fifty-two years, all the fires in temples and dwellings were extinguished, and the natives devoted themselves to fasting and prayer. They destroyed alike their valuable and worthless wares; rent their garments; put out their lights, and hid themselves, for awhile in solitude. Pregnant women seem to have been the objects of their especial dread at this moment. They covered their faces with masks and imprisoned them securely, for they imagined, that on the occurrence of the grand and final catastrophe, these beings, who, elsewhere, are always the objects of peculiar interest and tenderness, would be suddenly turned into beasts of prey and would join the descending legions of demons, to revenge the injustice or cruelty of man. At dark, on the last dread evening,--as soon as the sun had set, as they imagined, forever,--a sad and solemn procession of priests and people marched forth from the city to a neighboring hill, to rekindle the "New Fire." This mournful march was called the "procession of the gods," and was supposed to be their final departure from their temples and altars.