is Saint Anthony of Padua. The miracles which he wrought in his life are quite out of the ordinary course, and some of them appear rather preposterous and ludicrous to the incredulous. On one occasion, when he was preaching by the sea-shore, and his audience had gone away, the fishes came out to hear him. Whenever he was present at a banquet, and a plate or a soup tureen was accidentally broken, he joined the fragments so completely together that the piece recovered its former integrity. The superior of his convent forbade him to perform miracles; but, one day, seeing a man falling from a high tower, he ordered him to remain suspended in the air until the superior should give the saint permission to let him fall without injury. The devotees of Saint Anthony treat him with great familiarity, and even punish him when he does not satisfy their desires. When they wish to obtain some favour from his protection,—for example, to draw a prize in a lottery, to find a lost cow, or to find a husband for a damsel,—they burn tapers before his image, and adorn it with flowers. If they do not still obtain his favour, they place the image with its face towards the wall, in the darkest corner of the house, and even treat it with other indignities, of which decency forbids the mention.
The solemnity of the day of San Anton Abad, the protector of all horses and mules, is of a different kind, and is considered as one of the most noisy and brilliant of all public amusements. The equestrians of the city, mounted on their steeds, which, on this occasion, are splendidly caparisoned, give three gallops round the church dedicated to the saint, and, on finishing the
third, they receive from the hands of the priest the blessed barley, which is designed that night as provender for their happy animals. The streets are filled with people anxious to witness this grand exhibition of luxury and of horsemanship, and the balconies are filled with ladies, whose plaudits compensate the dexterity of the heroes of the feast, or rather of the day.
But of all the devotions of Spaniards, none is so general, none so fervent, none so varied in its forms and ceremonies, as that which has for its object the mother of the Saviour. All travellers know that Spain is the classic country of Mariolatry; and certainly, if we could divest it of the idea of intercession, which is its foundation, we should find in it much of the poetical, the affectionate, and much of analogy to the temper of a people in which the imagination predominates, and which still preserves many traits of the knightly spirit of its progenitors. Mary is, in the estimation of Spaniards, a tender mother, the confidante of all their woes, and the support of all their hopes. In their prayers to her, they are prodigal of the most expressive epithets of endearment and admiration. They call her the spouse of the Holy Spirit, the door of heaven, the star of the morning, the tower of David, the tower of ivory, the house of gold, the ark of the covenant, the health of the sick, the queen of heaven, the queen of angels, of prophets, of apostles, of martyrs, and of virgins. We will not do Spaniards the injustice of suspecting them capable of believing that Mary is superior to God in power, but there is no doubt that there are in that country many benighted souls who,
when they have addressed their prayers to God, asking some special favour which has not been granted, have recourse to the Virgin under a persuasion that through her means they shall obtain it. Innumerable authors of religious books have written, and it has daily been repeated from the pulpits, that the Virgin never denies a favour to her devotees; that in the mere fact of being her worshippers, they have salvation assured to them; and that it is enough to implore her by name, in order to preserve both body and soul from all danger. “Hail, most immaculate Mary!” (ave Maria purisuma) is the formula with which a visitor salutes persons in a house, and the response is, “conceived without sin” (sin pecado concebida) [113] These words are engraven on the façades of many public buildings and private houses. They are used also by way of exclamation in familiar conversation, in order to express surprise and admiration. Relate to a Spaniard some extraordinary act,—as, for example, a murder, an incendiarism, an earthquake,—and you will hear him exclaim, “Ave Maria!” just as an Englishman would say, “Dear me, is it possible? You don’t say so!” Such is the prestige that hovers about the name of the Virgin in the national customs of Spain.
Although the Virgin is in the eyes of Spaniards but an only being, and although they do not believe that there is more than one mother of God, yet the devotion which they tender to her is diversified in its forms according to the various advocations which the clergy have invented, which the popes have sanctioned, and to which the liturgy has given an official character. But the word advocation extends itself to a special name, a name significant of that with which the name of the Virgin is coupled, and which is sometimes derived from the facts in her history, from the endowments of her mind, or from the places in which her image has miraculously appeared. To the first class pertain the Virgin of the Nativity, the Virgin of Candlemas, the Virgin of the Assumption, the Virgin of Griefs, the Virgin of the Seven Griefs; the Virgin of Anguish or Agonies; and the Virgin of Solitude. To the second class, the Virgin of the Conception, of the Rosary, of Mercy, of Remedies, and of Pity. To the third class, the Virgin of Carmen, of Zaragoza, of Guadaloupe, of Copacabana, of Olivia de la Victoria, of Peñacerada, of Regla, of Cavadoraga, of Montserrat, of Nieves, of Fousanta, of Atocha, [115] and innumerable other places.
The Virgin of the Rosary is so called, because it is before her image that her devotees pray the rosary. This pious exercise consists in a paternoster and ten Ave Marias, repeated five times. The advocations of the Virgin de las Carretas, the Virgin of the Dew, and
some others, are of an origin now unknown. In truth, this multiplication of the same religious type has no fixed limits.
But the most extraordinary thing in this peculiarity of Roman Catholic worship is, that not only is the Virgin not worshipped at all without some one of these titles which a mistaken piety has conferred upon her, but that every one of these titles has a particular class of persons singled out from among the faithful, so that some are the devotees of one Virgin and some of another; and they who profess such devotion, for example, to the Virgin of the Rosary, never pray to the Virgin of Griefs. To such a point does this exclusive affection arrive, that the devotees are apt to dispute among
themselves as to the respective merits of the advocations to which each consecrates his worship. In some cities and towns the inhabitants are divided into parties, some defending one Virgin, and some another, which state of discord has resulted in angry disputes, animosities, and even acts of violence.