About fifty priests, in mantles, gowns, and capes, some black, some yellow,--with tinseled fringes and ornamentation,--with all manner of gestures, genuflections, salutations, kneelings, and burning of incense; with prayers, admonitions, and sacraments, filled the altar with constant motion.
A tall man, dressed in red, wheeled in a large basket filled with bread, which the priests, with cups of wine, passed up and down among those kneeling at the altar.

At least half a dozen times the places at the altar were filled--chiefly with women.

We counted the men,--only seven,--and those were old and tremulous, with one foot in the grave.
The whole performance was hollow and mechanical.

People walked in, crossed themselves at the door with holy water, and, while kneeling and saying their prayers, looked about examining the dress of each newcomer, their lips moving throughout, satisfied in reeling off the allotted number of prayers in a given time.

The one redeeming feature in the whole performance was the grand music.