There is no resident priest to make them, so there it stays. In
the meantime the bell is slung up on three poles. It was solemnly
beaten with a stick on Christmas Eve to commemorate the time when the
"Mother of Heaven" gave birth to her child Jesus. In one of the
principal houses of the village the scene was most vividly
reproduced. A small arbor was screened off by palm leaves, in which
were hung little colored candles. Angels of paper were suspended from
the roof, that they might appear to be bending over the Virgin, which
was a highly-colored fashion-plate cut from a Parisian journal that
somehow had found its way there. The child Jesus appeared to be a
Mellin's Food-fed infant. Round this fairy scene the youth and beauty
of the place danced and drank liberal potations of chicha, the
Bolivian spirits, until far on into morning, when all retired to
their hammocks to dream of their goddess and her lovely babe.
After this paper Virgin the next most prominent object of worship I
saw in Piedra Blanca was a saint with a dress of vegetable fibre,
long hair that had once adorned a horse's tail, and eyes of pieces of
clamshell.
Poor, dark Bolivia! It would be almost an impossible thing to
exaggerate the low state of religion there. A communication from
Sucre reads: "The owners of images of Jesus as a child have been
getting masses said for their figures. A band of music is employed,
and from the church to the house a procession is formed. A scene of
intoxication follows, which only ends when a good number lie drunk
before the image - the greater the number the greater the honor to the
image?" The peddler of chicha carries around a large stone jar, about
a yard in depth. The payment for every drink sold is dropped into the
jar of liquor, so the last customers get the most "tasty" decoction.
Naturally the masses like a religion of license, and are as eager as
the priests to uphold it. Read a tale of the persecution of a
nineteenth century missionary there. Mr. Payne in graphic language
tells the story:
"Excommunication was issued. To attend a meeting was special sin, and
only pardoned by going on the knees to the bishop. Sermons against us
were preached in all the churches. I was accused before the Criminal
Court. It was said I carried with me the 'special presence' of the
devil, and had blasphemed the Blessed Virgin, and everyone passing
should say: 'Maria, Joseph.' One day a crowd collected, and
sacristans mixed with the multitude, urging them on to 'vengeance on
the Protestants.' About two p.m. we heard the roar of furious
thousands, and like a river let loose they rushed down on our house.
Paving-stones were quickly torn up, and before the police arrived
windows and doors were smashed, and about a thousand voices were
crying for blood. We cried to the Lord, not expecting to live much
longer. The Chief of Police and his men were swept away before the
mob, and now the door burst in before the huge stones and force used.
There were two parties, one for murder and one for robbery. I was
beaten and dragged about, while the cry went up, 'Death to the
Protestant!' The fire was blazing outside, as they had lots of
kerosene, and with all the forms, chairs, texts, clothes and books
the street was a veritable bonfire. Everything they could lay hands
on was taken. At this moment the cry arose that the soldiers were
coming, and a cavalry regiment charged down the street, carrying fear
into the hearts of the people. A second charge cleared the street,
and several soldiers rode into the patio slashing with their
swords."
In this riot the missionary had goods to the value of one thousand
dollars burnt, and was himself hauled before the magistrates and,
after a lengthy trial, condemned to die for heresy!
Baronius, a Roman Catholic writer, says: "The ministry of Peter is
twofold - to feed and to kill; for the Lord said, 'Feed My sheep,' and
he also heard a voice from heaven saying, 'Kill and eat.'" Bellarmine
argues for the necessity of burning heretics. He says: "Experience
teaches that there is no other remedy, for the Church has proceeded
by slow steps, and tried all remedies. First, she only
excommunicated. Then she added a fine of money, and afterwards exile.
Lastly she was compelled to come to the punishment of death. If you
threaten a fine of money, they neither fear God nor regard men,
knowing that fools will not be wanting to believe in them, and by
whom they may be sustained. If you shut them in prison, or send them
into exile, they corrupt those near to them with their words, and
those at a distance with their books. Therefore, the only remedy is
to send them betimes into their own place."
As this mediaeval sentence against Mr. Payne could hardly be carried
out in the nineteenth century, he was liberated, but had to leave the
country. He settled in another part of the Republic. In a letter from
him now before me as I write he says: "The priests are circulating
all manner of lies, telling the people that we keep images of the
Virgin in order to scourge them every night. At Colquechaca we were
threatened with burning, as it was rumored that our object was to do
away with the Roman Catholic religion, which would mean a falling off
in the opportunities for drunkenness." So we see he is still
persecuted.
The Rev. A. G. Baker, of the Canadian Baptist Mission, wrote:
