th
visiting, some of which contain fine old paintings, though they are
mostly hung in a very poor light. There is an unmistakable atmosphere of
antiquity within these walls, "mellowed by scutcheoned panes in
cloisters old." The church facing the Plaza Mayor has a remarkable bell,
celebrated for its fine tones; and when this sounded for vespers,
Millet's Angelus was instantly recalled, the poor peons, no matter how
engaged, piously uncovering their heads and bowing with folded hands
while their lips moved in prayer. We were told of the great cost of this
bell, which is said to contain half a ton of silver; but this is
doubtless an exaggerated story framed to tickle a stranger's ear, since
if over a certain moderate percentage of silver is employed in the
casting, the true melody of the bell is destroyed. A queer object is
shown the visitor for a trifling fee, in the crypt of the church of San
Diego, being the remains of a mummified or desiccated monk, sitting
among a mass of skulls, rib and thigh bones, once belonging to human
beings. The moral of this exhibition seemed a little too far-fetched to
be interesting, and our small party hastened away with a sense of
disgust.

The hot springs from which the state and city take their name are
situated a couple of miles east of the town, at the end of a delightful
alameda. A small canal borders this roadway, which is liberally supplied
with water from the thermal springs, and scores of the populace may be
seen washing clothing on its edge at nearly any hour of the day, as well
as bathing therein, men and women together, with a decided heedlessness
of the conventionalities. The Maoris of New Zealand could not show more
utter disregard for a state of nudity than was exhibited by one group of
natives whom we saw. The admirable climate, the hot springs, the
beautiful gardens, vineyards, and abundant fruits, render this place
thoroughly attractive, notwithstanding that so large a portion consists
of adobe houses of only one story in height. These are often made
inviting by their neat surroundings and by being frescoed in bright
colors inside and out. One or two native birds in gayest colors usually
hang beside the open doors, in a home-made cage of dried rushes, singing
as gayly as those confined in more costly and gilded prisons. Just
opposite the public baths was one of these domesticated pets of the
mocking-bird species, who was remarkably accomplished. He was never
silent, but