THE CHURCH OF SANTA ANA.
We were near the old Church of Santa Ana, whose bells many times a day remind the faithful of their devotions. They were played skilfully, with a loud noise and with a vivacity such as I never before heard from bells. On one bell a man would drum a tune, the military music on a church bell having a decidedly frivolous effect. At six o’clock in the afternoon, the native inhabitants pause wherever they may happen to be at the vesper bell, and perform their devotions. I frequently met the Archbishop and his secretary in an evening walk, who would stop suddenly when the bell struck and, uncovering their heads, would repeat their prayers. I visited most of the churches. Imposture nowhere reigns with more open demands upon the credulity of the people. In one of the churches there are large paintings of the “Holy Girdle,” whose marvellous cures, and power over serpents, and the bestowment of blessings in answer to faith in it, are described in large letters. Each of the many parishes has a monthly procession in which the population join. One evening we encountered a procession which blocked the streets for two hours. Four thousand women in black filled each side of the wide street, chanting Scripture and prayers, the men occupying the middle of the street with an imposing show of images of canonized persons surrounded with lighted chandeliers. Each woman in this procession had a lighted wax candle which she had bought of the priests, to be returned to them after the march. This is the source of a large revenue to the Church. These processions keep up a lively enthusiasm among the people.