t is held by the surrounding populace
to be an infallible remedy in the instance of unfruitful women, and is
the constant resort of that class from far and near. These chapels at
Guadalupe are decorated in the crudest and most inartistic manner,
entirely unworthy of such belief as is professed in the sacredness of
the place, or of the virtues attributed by the priests to them as a
religious shrine. Money enough has been wasted, but there seems to be an
utter lack of good taste.

Over two million dollars had been expended on the church of Nuestra
Senora de Guadalupe, which stands at the foot of the hill, in supplying
the usual inventory of jewels, gold and silver plate, and other
extravagant church belongings. The church just named is built of brick
and stone combined, with four towers about a central dome, and is also
known as the cathedral of Guadalupe. The solid silver railing extending
from the choir to the high altar is three feet in height. Owing to its
presumed sacredness, this church, unlike the cathedral of the city near
at hand, has never been despoiled. Its interior is very rich in
ornamentation, among the most effective portions of which we remember
its fine onyx columns supporting lofty arches of Moorish architecture.
The costly elegance displayed in this cathedral is exactly suited to a
faith in which there is so little worship and so much form and ceremony.

On coming out of this elaborate edifice, half dazed by its expensive and
gaudy trappings, we step at once into an atmosphere of abject poverty
and want. The surroundings of the chapels and cathedral of Guadalupe are
in strong contrast with the interiors. This is undoubtedly the dirtiest
and most neglected suburb of the capital, where low pulque shops and a
half-naked population of beggars stare one in the face at every turn.
What sort of Christian faith is that which can hoard jewels of fabulous
value, with costly plate of gold and silver, in the sacristy of its
temple, while the poor, crippled, naked people starve on the outside of
its gilded walls? "Ah!" says Shelley, "what a divine religion might be
found out if charity were really made the principle of it instead of
faith!"

The grand view to be obtained from the summit of the hill of Guadalupe
amply repays the visitor for climbing the rude steps and rough roadway,
notwithstanding the terribly offensive odors arising from the dirty
condition of the neglected surroundings. It embraces the city in