The people are not so priestridden as those of some of the Spanish-American countries, being naturally more self-reliant and independent. They know what liberty is, and insist upon being allowed to enjoy it, both civil and religious. They choose their own priests, and the latter elect their own bishop, without regard to the Pope or the College of Cardinals. The clerical party in politics, or the Serviles, as they were called, because of their slavery to the Church, has long been extinct in San Salvador, and the political struggles are more personal than over abstract issues. There is a considerable degree of superstition among the people, and they believe in all sorts of signs and omens, but the priests do not attempt to humbug them with bogus miracles or wonder-working images. Much of this superstition relates to the earthquakes and volcanic disturbances to which the country is so subject. Within view of the capital are eleven great volcanoes, two of which are unceasingly active, while the others are subject to occasional eruptions. The nearest is the mountain of San Salvador, about eight thousand feet high, and showing to great advantage because it rises so abruptly from the plain. It is only three miles from the city, to the westward, very steep, and its sides are broken by monstrous gorges, immense rocky declivities, and projecting cliffs. The summit is crowned by a cone of ashes and scoriæ that have been thrown out in centuries past, but since 1856, subsequent to the greatest earthquake the country has known, the crater has been extinct, and is now filled with a bottomless lake. Very few people have ever ascended to the summit, because of the extreme difficulty and peril of making the climb, while even a smaller number have entered the chasm in which the crater lies. Some years ago a couple of venturesome French scientists went down, but became exhausted in their attempts to return. Their companions who remained at the top lowered them food and blankets by lines, and they were finally rescued, after several days of confinement in their rocky prison, by a detachment of soldiers, who hauled them up the precipice by ropes. The two active volcanoes, or _vivos_, as the people call them, are San Miguel and Yzalco, and there are none more violent on the face of the globe. They present a magnificent display to the passengers of steamers sailing by the coast, or anchored in the harbor of La Libertad and Acajutla, constantly discharging masses of lava which flow down their sides in blazing torrents, and illuminating the sky with the flames that issue from the craters at regular intervals. Yzalco is as regular as a clock, the eruption occurring like the beating of a mighty pulse every seven minutes.