The spiritual darkness is appalling. If the following can be written
of Pernambuco, a large city of 180,000 inhabitants, on the sea coast,
the reader can, in a measure, understand the priestly thraldom of
these isolated towns. A Pernambuco newspaper, in its issue of March
1st, 1903, contains an article headed, "Burning of Bibles," which
says:
"As has been announced, there was realized in the square of the
Church of Penha, on the 22nd ult., at nine o'clock in the morning, in
the presence of more than two thousand people, the burning of two
hundred and fourteen volumes of the Protestant Bible, amidst
enthusiastic cheers for the Catholic religion, the immaculate Virgin
Mary, and the High Priest Leo XIII. - cheers raised spontaneously by
the Catholic people." [Footnote: Literal translation from the
Portuguese.]
A colporteur, known to me, when engaged selling Bibles in a Brazilian
town, reports that the fanatical populace got his books and carried
them, fastened and burning, at the end of blazing torches, while they
tramped the streets, yelling: "Away with all false books!" "Away with
the religion of the devils!" A recent Papal bull reads: "Bible
burnings are most Catholic demonstrations."
Is it cause for wonder that the Spanish-American Republics have been
so backward?
I have seen a notice headed "SAVIOUR OF SOULS," making known the fact
that at a certain address a Most Holy Reverend Father would be in
attendance during certain hours, willing to save the soul of any and
every applicant on payment of so much. That revelation which tells of
a Saviour without money or price is denied them.
Corumba is a strange, lawless place, where the ragged, barefooted
night policeman inspires more terror in the law-abiding than the
professional prowler. The former has a sharp sword, which glitters as
he threatens, and the latter has often a kind heart, and only asks
"mil reis" (about thirty cents).
How can a town be governed properly when its capital is three
thousand miles distant, and the only open route thither is, by river
and sea, a month's journey? Perhaps the day is not far distant when
Cuyaba, the most central city of South America, and larger than
Corumba, lying hundreds of miles further up the river, will set up a
head of its own to rule, or misrule, the province. Brazil is too big,
much too big, or the Government is too little, much too little.
The large states are subdivided into districts, or parishes, each
under an ecclesiastical head, as may be inferred from the peculiar
names many of them bear. There are the parishes of:
"Our Lady, Mother of God of Porridge."
"The Three Hearts of Jesus."
"Our Lady of the Rosary of the Pepper Tree."
"The Souls of the Sand Bank of the River of Old Women."
"The Holy Ghost of the Cocoanut Tree."
"Our Lady Mother of the Men of Mud."
"The Sand Bank of the Holy Ghost."
"The Holy Spirit of the Pitchfork."
The Brazilian army, very materially aided by the saints, is able to
keep this great country, with its many districts, in tolerable
quietness.
