Picturesque and poetic ideas seem common to the Spaniard to-day, as ever. Only the other day, in discussing the monument to be erected to Alfonso XII. in Madrid, one of the newspapers reported the suggestion—finally adopted, I think—that it should be an equestrian statue of the young King, "with the look on his face with which he entered Madrid after ending the Carlist war." What a picture it summons to the imagination of the boy King—for he was no more—in the pride of his conquest of the elements of disorder and of civil war, which had so long distracted his beloved country—a successful soldier and a worthy King!

Spain is a country of surprises and of contradictions; even her own people seem unable to predict what may happen on the morrow. Those who knew her best had come to despair of her emancipation at the very moment when Prim and Topete actually carried the Revolution to a successful issue. Again, after the miserable fiasco of the attempt at a republic, the world, even in Spain itself, was taken by surprise by the peaceful restoration of Alfonso XII.

I can, perhaps, most fitly end this attempt at showing the causes of Spain's decay and portraying the present characteristics of this most interesting and romantic nation by a quotation from the pen of one of her sons. Don Antonio Ferrer del Rio, Librarian of the Ministry of Commerce, Instruction, and Public Works, and member of the Reales Academias de Buenas Letras of Seville and Barcelona, thus writes, in his preface to his Decadencia de Espana, published in Madrid in 1850: "It is my intention to point out the true origin of the decadence of Spain. The imagination of the ordinary Spaniard has always been captivated by, and none of them have failed to sing the praises of, those times in which the sun never set on the dominion of its kings." While professing not to presume to dispute this former glory, Senor Ferrer del Rio goes on to say that he only aspires to get at the truth of his country's subsequent decay. "There was one happy epoch in which Spain reached the summit of her greatness—that of the Reyes Catolicos, Don Fernando V. and Dona Isabel I. Under their reign were united the sceptres of Castilla, Aragon, Navarra, and Granada; the feudal system disappeared—it had never extended far into the eastern limits of the kingdom—the abuses in the Church were in great measure reformed, the administration of the kingdom with the magnificent reign of justice began to be consolidated, in the Cortes the powerful voice of the people was heard; and almost at the same moment Christian Spain achieved the conquest of the Moors, against whom the different provinces had been struggling for eight centuries, and the immortal discovery of a new world. Up to this moment the prosperity of Spain was rising; from that hour her decadence began. With her liberty she lost everything, although for some time longer her military laurels covered from sight her real misfortunes." After referring to the defeat of the Comuneros, and the execution of Padilla and his companions, champions of the people's rights, he goes on to show that while the aristocracy had received a mortal blow in the reign of Ferdinand and Isabella in the cause of consolidating the kingdom and of internal order, they had retained sufficient power to trample on the liberties of the people, while they were not strong enough to form a barrier against the encroachments of the absolute monarchs who succeeded, or to prevent the power eventually lapsing into the hands of the Church. "Consequently, theocracy gained the ascendency, formidably aided and strengthened by the odious tribunal whose installation shadowed even the glorious epoch of Isabel and Fernando, absorbing all jurisdiction, and interfering with all government. Religious wars led naturally to European conflicts, to the Spanish people being led to wage war against heresy everywhere, and the nation—exhausted by its foreign troubles, oppressed internally under the tyranny of the Inquisition, which, usurping the name of 'Holy,' had become the right hand of the policy of Charles V., and the supreme power in the Government of his grandson, Philip II.—lost all the precious gifts of enlightenment in a blind and frantic fanaticism. The people only awoke from lethargy, and showed any animation, to rush in crowds to the Autos da fe in which the ministers of the altar turned Christian charity into a bleeding corpse, and reproduced the terrible scenes of the Roman amphitheatre. Where the patricians had cried 'Christians to the lions!' superstition shouted 'Heretics to the stake!' Humanity was not less outraged than in the spectacle of Golgotha. Spanish monarchs even authorised by their presence those sanguinary spectacles, while the nobles and great personages in the kingdom thought themselves honoured when they were made alguiciles, or familiars of the holy office. Theocratic power preponderated, and intellectual movement became paralysed, civilisation stagnated."

This has ever been the result of priestly rule. One can understand the feeling of the liberal-minded Spaniard of to-day that, without wishing to interfere with the charitable works inaugurated by the clergy, nor desiring in any way to show disrespect to the Church, or the religion which is dear to the hearts of the people, a serious danger lies, as the Press is daily pointing out, in the religious orders, more especially the Jesuits, obtaining a pernicious influence over the young, undermining by a system of secret inquisition the teachings of science, gaining power over the minds of the officers in the army, and establishing a press agency which shall become a danger to the constitution.

Spain's outlook seems brighter to-day than it has ever been since her Golden Age of Isabella and Ferdinand; and it is the people who have awakened, a people who have shown what power lies in them to raise their beloved country to the position which is her right among the nations of the world. But prophecy is vain in a country of which it has been said "that two and two never make four." This year, if all go well meantime, Alfonso XIII. will take the reins in his own hands—a mere boy, even younger than his father was when called to the throne; than whom, however, Spain has never had a more worthy ruler. But Alfonso XII. had been schooled by adversity—he had to some extent roughed it amongst Austrian and English boys. He came fresh from Sandhurst and from the study of countries other than his own. To a naturally clever mind he had added the invaluable lesson of a knowledge of the world as seen by one of the crowd, not from the close precincts of a court and the elevation of a throne.

For his son it may be said that he has been born and carefully educated in a country where absolutism is dead, and by a mother who, as Regent, has scrupulously observed the laws of the constitution. He will come, as King, to a country which has known the precious boon of liberty too long to part with it lightly; to a kingdom now, for the first time in history, united as one people; where commerce and mutual interests have taken the place of internecine distrust and hatred. It is only at the present moment that this happy condition of things is spreading over the country; each month, each week, giving fresh evidence of new industries arising, of fresh capital invested in the development of the country. It is in the sums so invested by the mass of the people that those who believe in a bright future for Spain place their hopes; but we may all of us wish the young monarch for whom his country is longing, "God-speed."



PORTUGUESE LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY



CHAPTER XVIII

LAND AND PEOPLE

It has been said, and it is often repeated, that if you strip a Spaniard of his virtues, the residuum will be a Portuguese. This cruel statement is rather the result of prejudice than arising from any foundation in fact. It has a superficial cleverness which attracts some people, and especially those who have but an imperfect knowledge of the true life and character of the people thus stigmatised.

Lord Londonderry, in Chapter VI. of his Narrative of the Peninsular War, writes thus of the difference of character between the two nations: "Having halted at Elvas during the night, we marched next morning soon after dawn; and, passing through a plain of considerable extent, crossed the Guadiana at Badajoz, the capital of Estremadura. This movement introduced us at once into Spain; and the contrast, both in personal appearance and in manners, between the people of the two nations, which was instantly presented to us, I shall not readily forget. Generally speaking, the natives of frontier districts partake almost as much of the character of one nation as of another.... It is not so on the borders of Spain and Portugal. The peasant who cultivates his little field, or tends his flock on the right bank of the Guadiana, is, in all his habits and notions, a different being from the peasant who pursues similar occupations on its left bank; the first is a genuine Portuguese, the last is a genuine Spaniard.... They cordially detest one another; insomuch that their common wrongs and their common enmity to the French were not sufficient, even at this time, to eradicate the feeling.

"It was not, however, by the striking diversity of private character alone which subsisted between them, that we were made sensible, as soon as we had passed the Guadiana, that a new nation was before us. The Spaniards received us with a degree of indifference to which we had not hitherto been accustomed. They were certainly not uncivil.... Whatever we required they gave us, in return for our money; but as to enthusiasm or a desire to anticipate our wants, there was not the shadow of an appearance of anything of the kind about them. How different all this from the poor Portuguese, who never failed to rend the air with their vivats, and were at all times full of promises and protestations, no matter how incapable they might be of fulfilling the one or authenticating the other! The truth is that the Spaniard is a proud, independent, and grave personage; possessing many excellent qualities, but quite conscious of their existence, and not unapt to overrate them.... Yet with all this, there was much about the air and manner of the Spaniards to deserve and command our regard. The Portuguese are a people that require rousing; they are indolent, lazy, and generally helpless. We may value these our faithful allies, and render them useful; but it is impossible highly to respect them. In the Spanish character, on the contrary, there is mixed up a great deal of haughtiness, a sort of manly independence of spirit, which you cannot but admire, even though aware that it will render them by many degrees less amenable to your wishes than their neighbours."

With due allowance for time and circumstances, much in this passage might have been written to-day instead of nearly ninety years ago, and one cause of the difference in feeling is no doubt explained truly enough. Perhaps some shallow persons are affected by the fact that in good looks the Portuguese are as a race inferior to the Spaniards. But there is no such real difference in character as to justify an impartial observer in using a phrase so essentially galling to England's allies, of whom Napier said: "The bulk of the people were, however, staunch in their country's cause ... ready at the call of honour, and susceptible of discipline, without any loss of energy."

Throughout the whole Iberian Peninsula the main axiom of life appears to be the same: "Never do to-day what you can put off to to-morrow." On the left bank of the Guadiana it is summarised by the word manana; on the right bank the word used is amanha. There is only a phonetic distinction between the Spanish and the Portuguese idea. It is necessary for the traveller in these countries to keep this axiom well in mind, for it affords a clue to character and conduct the value of which cannot be over-estimated, and not only to the character and conduct of individuals, but to the whole national life of the inhabitants. In Portugal it permeates all public and municipal life, and appears to affect most especially that portion of the population who do not earn their living by manual labour. The higher one goes up the scale, the greater becomes the evidence of the ingrained habits of dilatoriness and procrastination, and so any hard work on the part of the lower class of toilers cannot be properly directed, and the commerce and industry of the country either dwindle away together, or fall into the hands of more energetic and active foreigners, who naturally carry off the profits which should be properly applied to the welfare and prosperity of the Lusitanians.

The mineral wealth and natural resources of the country are enormous, and it is really sad to contemplate the little use that is made of the one or of the other unless developed by alien energy and worked by alien capital. As regards this latter important factor, the administrative corruption and the unsound state of the national finances render it difficult to find foreign capitalists who are able and willing to embark in the industrial enterprises, the successful issue of which affords the only chance for this most interesting nation to recover something of its ancient prosperity and to once more take a position in the world worthy of the land of the hardy sailors and valiant captains who have left so imperishable a record over the earth's surface.

The intellectual life of Portugal seems to have ceased with Camoens. It is rather pathetic the way in which the ordinary educated Portuguese refers back to the great poet and to the heroic period which he commemorated. No conversation of any length can be carried on without a reference to Camoens and to Vasco da Gama. All history and all progress appear to have culminated and stopped then. Apparently nothing worthy of note has happened since. Camoens returned to Lisbon in 1569, and his great epic poem saw the light in 1572. He died in a public hospital in Lisbon in 1579 or 1580. In the latter year began the "sixty years' captivity," when Portugal became merely a Spanish province; yet there is no recollection of this—except the ingrained hatred of Spaniards and of everything Spanish—or of the shaking off the yoke in 1640, and of the battle of Amexial in 1663, where the English contingent bore the brunt of the battle, and the "Portugueses," as they are called by the author of An Account of the Court of Portugal, published in 1700, claimed the principal part of the honour. The traces of the Peninsular War have faded away, and on the lines of Torres Vedras there is scarcely any tradition of the cause of their existence. In Lisbon, indeed, there is one incident of later date than Camoens, which is considered worthy of remembrance,—the great earthquake of 1755,—but this can scarcely be looked upon as a national achievement, or a matter of intellectual development.

That Camoens is a fitting object for a nation's veneration cannot for a moment be doubted. The high encomium passed upon "the Student, the Soldier, the Traveller, the Patriot, the Poet, the mighty Man of Genius" by Burton, appears to be in no way exaggerated. The healthful influence of his life and writings has done and is still doing good in his beloved country. But though the man who in his lifetime was neglected, and who was allowed to die in the depths of poverty and misery, is now the most honoured of his countrymen, and his rank as one of the world's great poets is universally acknowledged, his labours have been to a certain extent in vain.

Not only industry, but culture, literature, and art appear to be infested with the mildew of decay. There is a good university at Coimbra, where alone, it is said, the language is spoken correctly. There is an excellent system of elementary and secondary schools, but in practice it is incomplete and subject to many abuses, like most public institutions in the country. The irregularities of the language, without authoritative spelling or pronunciation, and the best dictionary of which is Brazilian, have a bad effect upon the literature of the country.

The language, more purely Latin in its base than either of the other Latin tongues, with an admixture of Moorish, and strengthened by the admission of many words of foreign origin, introduced during the period of great commercial prosperity, possesses ample means for the expression of ideas and of shades of thought, and though it loses somewhat of the musical quality of the other languages in consequence of a rather large percentage of the nasal tones which are peculiar to it, yet it will hold its own well with the remaining members of the group.

Whatever the cause, however, there is hardly any general literature; almost the only books (not professional or technical) which are published, appear to be translations of French novels—not of the highest class. Perhaps in the study of archaeology and folklore is to be found the most cultured phase of Portuguese intelligence. The Archaeological Society of Lisbon strives to do good work, and has a museum with interesting relics in the old church of the Carmo, itself one of the most interesting and graceful ruins left out of the havoc caused by the great earthquake.

As might be expected under such circumstances, the newspapers are, with few exceptions, of the "rag" variety. Conducted for the most part by clever young fellows fresh from Coimbra, they are violent in their views and incorrect in their news, especially with regard to foreign intelligence. They have some influence, no doubt, but not so much as the same type of newspaper in France. The habitual want of veracity of the Portuguese character is naturally emphasised in the newspapers, and no one in his senses would believe any statement made in them.

A sure sign of the decadence of intellectual life, as well as of commercial activity, is to be found in the postal service, with its antiquated methods and imperfect arrangements. It is administered in a happy-go-lucky manner, which amuses at the same time that it annoys. Truly, with the post-office, it is well constantly to repeat to one's self the phrase: "Patience! all will be well to-morrow!" Probably it won't be well; but none but a foolish Englishman or Frenchman or German will bother about such a little matter.

A kindly, brave, docile, dishonest, patient, and courteous people, who, to quote Napier "retain a sense of injury or insult with incredible tenacity;" and a due observance of their customs and proper politeness are so readily met, and friendly advances are so freely proffered, that a sojourn amongst them is pleasant enough. I have wondered that the tourist has not found his way more into this smiling land, though, no doubt, his absence is a matter of congratulation to the traveller in these regions. The country has many beauties, the people and their costumes are picturesque, and the cost of living—even allowing for a considerable percentage of cheating—is not excessive. There is, I suppose, a want of the ordinary attractions for the pure tourist or globe-trotter. There are churches, monuments, and objects of interest in goodly numbers, and there is beautiful scenery in great variety; but the true attraction to a thoughtful visitor lies in the contemplation of the people themselves.

The Portuguese, taken as a whole, are not a good-looking race. The women, who, as a rule, are very pretty as little girls, lose their good looks as they grow up, and are disappointing when compared with the Spaniards. Sometimes one comes across fish- or market-women of considerable comeliness, which, when conjoined to the graceful figure and poise induced by the habitual carriage of heavy weights on the head and the absence of shoes, makes a striking picture. The costume is attractive, and the wealth of golden ear-rings, charms, chains, and such like, in which these women invest their savings, does not somehow seem anomalous or incongruous, though shown on a background of dirty and ragged clothing.

One unfortunate peculiarity that cannot help being noticed is the number of persons whose eyes are not on the same level. When this does not amount to an actual disfigurement, it is still a blemish which prevents many a young girl from being classed as a beauty. This and the peculiar notched or cleft teeth seem to point to an hereditary taint. Also unmistakable signs of a greater or lesser admixture of black blood are numerous. As a rule, the Portuguese are dark-complexioned, with large dark eyes and black hair; but, of course, one meets many exceptions. The men of the working class are fond of wearing enormous bushy whiskers, and women of all classes are accustomed to wear moustachios. The thin line of softest down which accentuates the ripe lips of the senhorina of some seventeen summers becomes an unattractive incident in the broad countenance of the stout lady of advancing years; and when, as sometimes happens, the hirsute appendages take the form of a thin, straggling beard, with a tooth-brush moustache, it can only be described as an unmitigated horror.

Society in Portugal is very mixed. There are the old fidalgos, haughty and unapproachable, and often very poor, the descendants of the nobles whose duplicity, ability in intrigue, and want of patriotism are so often alluded to in the pages of Napier. Then there are the new nobility, the "titled Brasileros," as Galenga calls them, who have come back from Brazil to their native land with large fortunes acquired somehow, and who practically buy titles, as well as lands and houses. Wealthy tradesmen, also, hold a special position in the mixed middle class. There is, too, a curious blending of old-fashioned courtesy with democratic sentiments. The tradesman welcomes his customers with effusive politeness—shakes hands as he invites them to sit down, and chats with these perhaps titled ladies without any affectation or assumption. After a while the parties turn to business. A sort of Oriental bargaining takes place, the seller asking twice as much as the object is worth and he intends to take. The purchaser meets this with an offer of about half what she intends to give. With the utmost politeness and civility the negotiations are conducted on either side. Each gives way little by little, and in the end a bargain is struck. The amounts involved appear to be enormous, as the reis are computed by thousands and hundreds; but, then, the real is only worth about the thousandth part of three shillings and twopence at the present rate of exchange, and the long and exciting transaction, in all its various phases, has resulted in one or other of the parties having scored or missed a small victory. Verily, even to the loser, the pleasure is cheap at the price.

The Brazilian element is most conspicuous in Lisbon, and partly in consequence that city is only a little modern capital, somewhat feebly imitating Paris in certain ways, and, consequently, lacking the individuality and interest of Oporto. Yet Lisbon has a charm of its own; and the beauties of the Aveneida, the Roscio (known to the English as the "Rolling Motion Square," from its curious pattern of black and white pavement), the Black Horse Square, the broad and beautiful Tagus, the hills whereon the city is built, and the lovely gardens with their sub-tropical vegetation, will repay a stay of some weeks' duration.

Outside the mercantile element, there is considerable difficulty for a stranger to formulate the boundaries of other social strata. It would appear that the professions are in an indifferent position. Lawyers, of course, as in most other countries, are looked upon as rogues. How far this is the effect of the general prejudice, or whether it has any special foundation in fact, it would be hard to say. No doubt there are upright men amongst them, as in every other walk of life. There is a general idea that the medical training is lax, and the doctors, as a rule, are not highly considered. It is admitted, however, that they are as devoted, and as ready to risk their own lives, as those of other countries, a fact which was fully proved by several of the doctors at Oporto and Lisbon on the occasion of the outbreak of the plague in 1899.

The system of fees in general use tends to damage the position of both lawyers and doctors. In reply to the question as to his indebtedness, the client or the patient is told: "What you please." This sounds courteous, but is, in effect, embarrassing, as it is hard to estimate what is a fair fee under the circumstances, and generally one or the other of the parties is dissatisfied, and a sore feeling is left behind.

There are several orders of knighthood, which are showered about on occasion. The reasons for giving them are various. For instance, a Court tradesman may receive a decoration in lieu of immediate payment of a long-standing bill. The ribbons and buttons are not worn so freely as elsewhere on the Continent. The polite style in addressing a stranger is in the third person, and such titles as Your Excellency, Your Lordship, and Your Worship, sometimes enlarged with the adjective illustrissimo (most illustrious), are common enough. When an Englishman is first addressed as Vossa Illustrissima Excellencia (Your Most Illustrious Excellency), he begins to feel as if he were playing a part in one of Gilbert and Sullivan's comic operas. He soon gets used to it, however, and accepts the superlatives without turning a hair.

Of all classes it may be said that their manners are, on the whole, good, and their morals generally lax. Cleanliness has no special place assigned to it amongst the virtues. If it comes next to godliness, then the latter must be very low down the scale. It seems incredible, but verminous heads are to be found in the ranks of well-to-do tradespeople. Fleas and bugs abound, and happy is he whose skin is too tough, or whose flesh is too sour, to attract these ferocious insects. There is not much luxury and there is a fair amount of thrift, while frugality of living is common, especially among the populace.

One great characteristic is the intense love of children which is exhibited by all classes, and there is no surer way to the good will of a native than a kindness, however slight, to a child in whom he or she is interested. As is natural under such circumstances, the children are shockingly indulged and spoilt, with all the resultant unpleasant and evil consequences. Cats, also, are great favourites with the Portuguese, and the thousands of shabby animals of Lisbon and Oporto show no sign of fear if a stranger stops to stroke them. They are accustomed to kind treatment, and look upon all human beings as friends.

As a rule, a rather large number of servants are employed. They are poorly paid, and in many households indifferently fed and housed. Often they are dirty, lazy, dishonest sluts. They chatter shrilly with the master or mistress, answer and argue when told of any shortcoming, and are always ready to go off at a moment's notice. But they are often capable of devoted service, and of a sincere desire to be obliging, and may always be counted on to exhibit the utmost kindness to the children of the house. Their written references, as a rule, are frauds. If you ask for the boas referencias (good references), so often mentioned in the advertisements of criadas (female servants), you will probably find that, even if genuine, they are antiquated, and that they leave many gaps between the various periods of service which can only be filled up by conjecture. Criadas are not, as a rule, of immaculate virtue, and give some trouble by their desire to go to festas and to servants' balls. The male servants are, as a rule, better than the criadas. Servants are somewhat roughly treated, and are ordered about as if they were dogs. It is always said that they do not understand or appreciate milder or more civil treatment, and are inclined to despise a master or mistress who uses the Portuguese equivalent to "please," or who acknowledges a service with thanks. I am inclined to doubt this, both from my personal observation and from a casual remark made to me by the landlady of a hotel at Cintra, that her waiters and servants much preferred English to native visitors, because of the greater politeness and consideration shown to them by the former. Of course, as in all other countries, servants are described as one of the greatest plagues in life; but this must be taken for what it is worth. And what would the ladies do without such a subject to grumble about?

Portugal is a poor country, despite its natural resources. The wealthy people are few, and consist mainly of returned Brazilians. It cannot be said, either, that the classes in the enjoyment of a competence constitute a fair average of the community. But the poor are very abundant. Wages are terribly low, even a foreman in an engineering shop getting only a milrei a day, averaging 3s. 2d. in English money. On the other hand, it must be remembered that in such a climate the "living wage" is necessarily lower than in England. Many necessities in England are superfluities or even inconveniences under sunnier skies. The people, too, are very frugal, and even in towns, though rents be high, all other necessaries are moderate in price. The standard of life is not high, and the people are contented with a style of living which would be indignantly rejected by English labourers.

The artisans are not good workmen, but plod on fairly well, and, with the exception of festas, require few holidays. They prefer to work on Sundays, and grumble at their English employers, who generally split the difference, by closing their shops for half a day. They look upon this as a grievance, however much they may be assured that it makes no difference in their wages.



A very hard-working class of men are the Gallegos, the natives of Galicia, who are nearly as numerous in Lisbon as they were when Napier wrote, and where, then as now, they act as porters, messengers, scavengers, and water-carriers, and are found in all sorts of lowly and laborious occupations. As porters and messengers, they have an excellent reputation for honesty, and for being most civil and obliging. Gallenga, a fairly shrewd observer, considers that the employment of these Spaniards has deplorable effects on the character of the Portuguese nation. I cannot go all the way with him in the gloomy view he takes of it, but it must be conceded that the existence of such a body of aliens (estimated at twelve thousand in Lisbon alone) working hard and well at occupations which the Portuguese will not do at all, or, if they attempt them, will do indifferently; herding together some ten or twelve in a small room, living on maize bread and a clove of garlic washed down with water; accepting thankfully a very attenuated hire, and yet contriving to send substantial savings back to Galicia,—must considerably affect the labour market and tend to keep wages low. They also close certain forms of labour to the native worker, and cause these industries to be looked on with contempt.

In towns like Lisbon and Oporto a great number of persons are employed in the fish trade. The fish-girls, with their distinctive costumes, their bare feet, and the graceful poise of the heavy basket of fish on their heads, are a very characteristic feature of both towns. The costumes differ in the two cities, mainly in the head-gear, but they are both picturesque and dirty, and emit the same "ancient and fish-like smell." The men, too, with their bare legs and feet, balancing a long pole on the shoulder, with a basket of fish at each end, will cover a marvellous amount of ground in a day at the curious trotting pace which they affect. Miles inland these men will carry their finny wares, stopping at the public water-supplies to moisten the cloth which protects the fish from the sun and dust. These may or may not be fresh when the day's work is nearly done, but housewives purchasing a supply in the afternoon had better keep a very sharp look-out.

Fish plays an important part in the domestic economy of dwellers within a reasonable distance of the sea, and forms a considerable item in the food-stuffs of the working classes. It is fairly cheap, and is cooked so as to get the full value of it. More important than the fresh fish is the salted cod (bacalhao). This, which Napier described as "the ordinary food of the Portuguese," is the backbone of the worker's menu. It is not fragrant, nor is it inviting in aspect in its raw state, but it is said to be highly nutritive, and it can certainly be cooked in ways which make it appetising. The midday meal, which the wife brings to her husband at his work, and shares with him as they sit in the shade, is often composed of a caldo (soup) made of bacalhao, or of all sorts of oddments, thickened with beans and flavoured with garlic, accompanied by a bit of rye-bread or of broa, the bread made from maize. These soups and breads, accompanied by salads, onions, tomatoes, and other vegetables, washed down with draughts of a light red table-wine of little alcoholic strength, form the not unwholesome average diet of the worker with his hands. If he wants to get drunk, he can do so, with some difficulty, by imbibing sufficient wine, but the easiest method is to drink the fearful crude spirit aguardente. If he survives, he gets horribly, brutally drunk, and possibly does some mischief before he recovers. But it is only fair to say that he but rarely gets drunk, and that when he is thirsty he quenches his thirst with water, with a harmless decoction of herbs or lemonade, or with the almost innocuous wine. This sobriety is not the result of any temperance legislation or restrictions. No license is required for opening a shop for the sale of liquor. Only revenue dues and octroi duties have to be paid, and, of course, there is a liability to police supervision, which provides the police with a means of increasing their very inadequate pay by bribes or blackmail.

The amusements of the workman in the town are few enough, and mostly of a domestic character. He sits on his doorstep, or on a bench in the nearest gardens. He smokes the eternal cigarette, gossips with his neighbours, plays with his children, and pets the cat. His only real playtimes are the festas, when for some hours he indulges in revelry—if, indeed, it be worthy of such a title. He reads the newspaper but little,—if he can read at all,—which is, perhaps, a good thing for him, and he is generally a Republican. This Republicanism is mostly academic, but the "red" type is not wanting, and a fiery spirit might be roused at any time, with consequences that cannot be foreseen. Of course, the younger men tinkle the guitar, and make love more or less openly to the girls. When age overtakes a man or misfortune overpowers him, there is no poor law to take him in charge, but there are extensive and well-organised charities in every centre which are eager and willing to assist those who are temporarily afflicted, and to afford sustenance—a bare sustenance, perhaps—to those who are permanently disabled.

The amusements of the town—the theatre, the concert, and the opera—do not affect the workman much; his budget does not allow of such indulgence, except on the occasion of a free performance. Though they are fairly musical and love the theatre, the Portuguese have no really aesthetic side to their character. There is a queer song and dance, topical and rather broad, the chula, the somewhat monotonous refrain of which is to be heard everywhere and at all hours, and from all manners of lips. The washerwomen kneeling by the brook bang the unfortunate clothes on the flat stones in rhythm with the tune, and beguile the time with the interminable song. It arises in unexpected places, and is a fairly sure item in the gathering of the younger folk, both in towns and villages, in the cool of the evening. Concerts and theatres are fairly patronised by the more moneyed classes, but the performances are not, as a rule, of a very high calibre. There is a subsidised theatre at Lisbon, but it does little to elevate the dramatic art elsewhere.



CHAPTER XIX

PORTUGUESE INSTITUTIONS

The Portuguese army is raised by conscription, each parish, according to size, having to contribute an annual quota of young men between twenty and twenty-one years of age. These have to serve three consecutive years with the colours, and then pass into the reserve for another ten years. During the latter period no conscript can leave the country without a passport. In time of peace the army is supposed to number about thirty thousand men, and on the war footing should consist of about one hundred and twenty thousand men and two hundred and sixty-four guns. The men, who in summer wear brown holland clothes, look hardy enough, and, according to ordinary report, are worthy of the plucky cacadores of the Peninsular War, who, according to Napier, made most excellent soldiers when properly led. It is still said of the Portuguese soldier that with three beans in his pocket he can march and fight for a week without making any further demands upon the commissariat department. This military service does not affect the nation much, either morally or physically, and the only economical effect is probably that it provides a fruitful source of plunder to corrupt officials. As any man can free himself of the three years' service with the colours by paying a sum of about L24, it may be imagined what an opening this affords for special peculation.

The navy consists of about five thousand men, and of a few modern war-ships, and of some old boats whose seaworthiness is questionable. The best ship at present on the list is the cruiser Dom Carlos, which was sent to take part in the naval pageant which formed the first portion of the funeral of Queen Victoria. The sailors, who are much to be seen in Lisbon, where the great naval barracks are situated, look smart enough, and as the Portuguese have always been good sailors, it may safely be predicted that, in case of necessity, they will make the most of the limited means at their disposal, or of such of them as have not been utterly ruined by official indifference or worse.

In the towns one meets men in various employments, such as the police, who have served in the army, and still retain some sort of soldierly appearance, but once get into the country, and it is vain to look for any evidence of military service amongst the rural population.

The country-folk are a patient lot; most of them ruminants, like their own oxen. Sleepy always, and slow in their movements, they are often devoted to the farm, or quinta, on which they work, and are, perhaps, slightly more honest than their fellows in the towns. They are frugal enough, and enjoy their huge junks of dark bread, washed down with water, at their midday meal, and a sound sleep under the shade of an orange tree or a eucalyptus, or a bit of a wall, until it is necessary to begin work again. The peasant costumes are not inviting; they are simply squalid. Costumes in the towns are much better. Still, on festal days the village women deck themselves out with bright-hued shawls, and the men wind brighter scarfs round their waists to keep up their patchwork trousers, and thus relieve what would otherwise be the intolerable dinginess of the whole scene. The farmer himself, mounted on his mule, with high-peaked saddle and enormous wooden stirrups decorated with brass, his cloak, with the bright scarlet or blue lining folded outwards, strapped on in front, with his short jacket and broad-brimmed hat, offers a smart and typical figure.

In town or country, the beautiful oxen are worthy of admiration. They are the most satisfactory of all the rural animals. Horses, shabby and attenuated, little sheep of a colour from black to dirty grey, showing affinity to goats, and having neither the grace of the latter nor the sleepy comeliness of our own sheep, black and white cows whose points would not be much thought of by judges at an agricultural show, goats of all sorts of breeds, and finally pigs of a most lanky and uninviting appearance, form the stock of the farms. Heaps of chickens of all sorts run about everywhere, and enjoy fine dust-baths by the side of the road.

The aspect of the country varies much between north and south. In the former, one sees real grass and hedges, and the bright flowers that are common everywhere look all the better for their green background. The commonest hedge in the south, and occasionally in the north, is made of a few layers of stones loosely laid together with a row of aloe plants on the top. These grow formidable in time, with huge sharp-pointed leaves, and they present a curious appearance when at intervals in such a row plants send up their huge flowering stems from nine to twelve feet high, looking at a little distance like telegraph poles.

Despite the squalid clothes of the peasants, there are many picturesque aspects of rural life. The driving of large herds of cattle by mounted men, armed with long goads, is an interesting as well as an artistic sight, and the same may be said of the primitive agricultural occupations. The crops are harvested with a sickle, and you may wake up some morning to see the field opposite your house invaded by some twenty to thirty reapers, men and women, boys and girls, patiently sawing their way through the wheat or barley, or whatever it is. The corn is threshed out with the flail, or trodden out by the oxen—all operations fair to look upon. Forms of cultivation interesting to watch are the very primitive ploughing, the hoeing of the maize, and all those connected with the culture of the vines and the orange and other fruit trees, and especially the irrigation, which is so important to these latter. In fact, one of the most charming of rural sights is the old water-wheel, groaning and creaking as it is turned by the patient ox or mule or pony, splashing the cool water from the well out of its earthen pots—each with a hole in the bottom—and discharging it into the trough leading to the irrigation channels or to the reservoir from which the water may afterwards be let off in the required direction.

But agriculture is not always so backward and primitive. There are great landowners and large farmers who use the newest and best agricultural implements. The Government does what it can to encourage the use of artificial manures, and there are societies which render important services to agriculturists and to fruit-growers. Amid such labours live the quiet country-folk. They have no thought of anything; they have no special amusements beyond an occasional festa and a dance. They sit round the village well in the evening, and when not talking scandal, tell stories about—"Once upon a time there was a poor widow with one or more daughters," or "There was once a king's son"—often a Moorish king. The old well-known tales reappear, modified to the Portuguese character and morality.

The following is a story taken from Braga's excellent book: "There was, once upon a time, a poor widow that had only one daughter. This girl, going out to bathe in the river with her companions on St. John's eve, at the advice of one of her friends, placed her ear-rings on the top of a stone, lest she should lose them in the water. While she was playing about in the river an old man passed along, who, seeing the ear-rings, took them and placed them in a leather bag he was carrying. The poor child was much grieved at this, and ran after the old man, who consented to restore her belongings if she would search for them inside his sack. This the girl did, and forthwith the artful old man closed the mouth of the bag and carried her off therein. He subsequently told her that she must help him to gain a living, and that whenever he recited—

'Sing, sack, Else thou wilt be beaten with a stick!'

she was to sing lustily. Wherever they came he placed his sack on the ground, and addressed the above formula to it, when the poor girl sang as loud as she could:

'I am placed in this sack, Where my life I shall lose, For love of my ear-rings, Which I left in the stream.'

The old man obtained much money from the audiences attracted by his singing leather bag. The authorities of one town, however, became suspicious, and, examining the sack while its owner was asleep, found and released the child. They filled up the bag with all the filth they could pick up, and left it where they had found it. The little girl was sent back to her mother. When the old man woke next morning, and took out the sack to earn his breakfast, the usual incantation had no effect, and when he applied the threatened stick the bag burst, and all the filth came out, which he was compelled to lick up by the enraged populace." At the close of the story the cigarettes glow, the white teeth gleam, the bushy whiskers wag, the old women chuckle, the girls giggle, and the youths snigger, and as the short twilight is now over, the group breaks up, and each vanishes into his or her own vermin-pasture to sleep until amanha has actually become to-day, and the sun shines on another exact repetition of yesterday.

The Portuguese are superstitious, and are devout up to a certain point, and the clerics are exceedingly intolerant. In the morning one sees, as in all Roman Catholic countries, devout worshippers kneeling about in the churches before their favourite shrines, but, unlike the practice of most Roman Catholic countries, the churches are closed at or about noon for the most part, and are only open for special masses after that time. The procession of the Host is greeted with most extreme reverence, and whether it be in the fashionable Chiado at Lisbon or along a country lane, all uncover and make the sign of the cross, and many, even fashionably dressed ladies and gentlemen, kneel down and bow themselves humbly as the sacred wafer passes by, borne by the gorgeously vested priest; at least, in the cities the vestments are gorgeous, and a long train of acolytes and attendants makes the procession imposing, but in the country the vestments are often mildewed and decayed, and the one or two rustic attendants are not dignified in appearance. Still, the sacred symbol is the same, and the reverence and the devotion are the same.

There is an excessive hierarchy for the size of the country, there being in Portugal proper three ecclesiastical provinces, ruled respectively by the Patriarch of Lisbon and by the Archbishops of Braga and Evora. Besides these, there is the colonial province which is ruled by the Archbishop of Goa, Archpriests and other dignitaries abound, so that a priest has something to look forward to in the way of promotion; and yet, as a rule, the priests perform their duties without zeal and in a slovenly manner. One often hears it said that their behaviour and their morality leave much to be desired. There are among them gentlemen of blameless life and even of ascetic practices, but it is commonly reported that, as a whole, they are of inferior birth and education. It is not easy for a stranger to form any opinion on these points, but it must be conceded that their appearance is generally suggestive of the truth of the statement, and it may be admitted that there is an undue proportion of ignoble and sensuous faces amongst them.

Funerals are occasions of great pomp, and are often picturesque enough, while the masses for the dead at intervals after and on the anniversary are, no doubt, profitable to the Church. By attending these one has a good opportunity of testifying to the esteem in which the deceased was held, or to one's good will towards the family or representatives. These masses are generally advertised in the papers, with thanks to those friends who have attended funeral masses. As there is scarcely any intellectual activity in Portugal, there is practically no religious thought. A dull acquiescence in the dictates of the Church may be crossed by an occasional gleam of rebellion against sacerdotalism, roused by some temporary stirring up of the hatred felt against the Jesuits. But it in no way alters the habitual attitude of the people towards religion and its outward manifestations. One thing is certain, and that is that in town or country a man or a woman must be in the lowest depths of poverty and distress to refuse to throw a few reis into the bags of the licensed mendicants who, bareheaded, and clad in scarlet or white gowns, go round soliciting alms for the support of the churches on whose behalf they are sent out.

As is customary in most countries, the women are more amenable to religious influences than the men, and are more under the dominion of the priest. This is not likely to be altered yet awhile, for, under the present system of education and bringing up, the female portion of the community is not only not intellectual, but may even be described as being unintelligent. They are slovenly, and cannot be described as good housewives. They are pleasure-loving and garrulous, though this latter trait is not, I suppose, a specially national characteristic. They do much hard work, especially in the fields. In the classes above (if above be the proper word) the hand-workers, the young girls are still kept very strictly, and are not allowed to go out alone. Their knowledge of life is limited to the view from the windows of their homes, where they may be seen looking out on the street scenes below whenever the shade allows them to stand at the window or on the balcony. No "new woman" movement of any importance has yet taken place, and though there are modifications in woman's position in the national life, it is probable that it will take one if not more generations before women in Portugal achieve the emancipation which their sisters have attained in more progressive countries.

In one circumstance, however, woman does take her place by the side of man, and that is in the bull-ring—not, indeed, in the arena, but in every part of the amphitheatre, from the worst seats on the sunny side to the costly boxes in the shade. She takes as great an interest in the bull-fight as the man, and if she does not shout and swear, or fling her hat into the ring in her enthusiasm, she delights probably more than the man in the beauty of the spectacle, and appreciates almost as fully the feats of skill and daring which give such special attraction to the national pastime. This is a right royal sport, and as in Portugal the horrid cruelty which defaces it in Spain is absent, there is no overwhelming reason why the women should not sit and applaud the picturesque scene and the exhibitions of pluck and agility shown by the performers.

The scene is really magnificent, and the enthusiasm of the audience must be witnessed in order to understand the underlying potentialities of the Portuguese character. The vile abuse of a bull who will not show fight is comical to listen to. Probably, in such a case, the bull has been through it all before, and he does not care to make wild rushes at cloaks which have nothing substantial behind them. So he paws up the sand and looks theatrical, but refuses to budge. Then a nimble bandarilhero faces him, and fixes a pair of bandarilhas in his neck—one on each side if he can manage it. This is unpleasant, no doubt, but the bull's former experience tells him that it is not serious, and not even very painful. It was irritating the first time, but no well-bred bull should condescend to be upset by such a trifle. Another pair of bandarilhas, and yet another, are fixed into his shoulders by their barbed points—or the attempt is made to fix them. Then the bull begins to play the game in a condescending sort of way. Then the great man, the espada himself, comes on the scene, and arranges and waves his scarlet flag, and walks up to the obstinate animal, perhaps flicks him in the nostrils with his pocket-handkerchief and calls him vacca (cow)! At last, seemingly out of good nature, the bull rushes at the red flag, has the highly decorated dart stuck between his shoulders, by the daring espada who may perform some other feat, listens to the applause, and laughs to himself when he hears the bugle-call and sees the trained oxen rush in with their long bells and their attendant herdsmen, and with more or less of a frolicsome air he trots out of the arena in their company and, having had his sore shoulders attended to, and having had a good feed, chews the cud with a pleasant reminiscence of the afternoon's work. It is a mistake not to kill the bull, which is not cruel in itself, but which would prevent some rather tiresome interludes when a knowing old bull refuses to be coaxed into playing his part of the game.

Far different, however, is the scene when a really spirited bull comes in with a rush and charges wildly at the brightly attired performers, and makes them skip over the barrier, often leaving their cloaks behind them. Sometimes the bull skips over too, and then there is a most amusing scene, as performers, attendants, and all vault back over the barrier into the ring itself. When the espada finally performs his courageous feat under such conditions, he obtains such an ovation as his skill deserves. Hats of all sorts and shapes are cast to him in the arena, which he has to pick up and throw or hand back to the admirers who testify their satisfaction in this curious manner. Cigars, also, are thrown at the successful bull-fighter's feet, and these he keeps. The most famous espadas are all Spaniards, and they all wear the traditional dress of their calling. If, on the one hand, there is not the thrill of the actual killing of the bull, on the other there are no miserable old horses to be ripped up, and no smell of blood. Next to the actual bull-fights come the selections of the young bulls from the herds, when the members of the Tauromachian Societies exhibit their skill, and where many a gay young fellow gets much knocked about in exhibiting his agility or the want of it.

Other sports cannot be said to have any marked existence. Dancing is a national amusement, and a few of the Anglicised Portuguese go in for cricket and lawn-tennis. Cycling, though not unknown, is far from common, the roads being, as a rule, much too bad for comfortable or even for safe riding.

Local and provincial government leaves much to be desired in Portugal. The keeping up of the roads is inconceivably bad. A royal road (estrada real) is generally the worst of all, and, with such an example before them, it is not to be wondered at that local authorities neglect their duties in this matter.

"No capital city in Europe suffers so much as Lisbon from the want of good police regulations." This quotation from Napier might very well be written to-day, and extended to include all Portuguese towns. Perhaps it is fair to say that it is not so much the regulations that are at fault as the incompetence and indifference of each local authority, which irresistibly suggest that corruption alone can account for such a mass of evil. The administrative machine is elaborate, and ought to be more effective. First, there is the district, ruled by the Civil Governor, an officer somewhat resembling a French prefect, with its corporate body known as the District Commission. There are seventeen districts, which are subdivided into two hundred and sixty-two communes. The head of a commune is the Administrator, and the corporation is known as the Municipal Chamber. The last subdivision is that of the communes into parishes, of which there are three thousand seven hundred and thirty-five. Each of these has as its head an officer called a regedor, and occupies the attention of a junta de parochia, or parish council.

The scavenging, sanitation, watering, paving, and all the other works which fall within the sphere of the municipality or local authority are defective and neglected. The one bright point, both in Oporto and Lisbon, is the care, skill, and attention with which the public gardens and squares are tended. The palms, tree-ferns, cacti, and other semi-tropical and sub-tropical plants are beautiful in themselves, and are arranged and intermingled with other trees and shrubs in a most artistic manner. The grass (upon which no one, of course, may walk) is kept green by constant watering, and affords a delightful contrast to the generally dry and dusty aspect of the city. Another organisation which is generally efficient and well conducted is that of the fire brigades. The municipal firemen—the bombeiros—are often stimulated by a healthy rivalry with the volunteer brigades, which are numerous, well found, and, as a rule, well managed. The latter are often centres of good charitable work outside their actual fire service, and they are valuable as offering a fair and worthy opportunity for the display of sound public spirit and good feeling.

Though Portuguese laws are, as a rule, admirable in themselves, the administration thereof is bad in the extreme, and the judiciary have a reputation for turpitude remarkable even amongst the recognised corruption of all officials. In Portugal proper there are two judicial districts—that of Lisbon and that of Oporto. Each has a high court known as a Relacao, and there are inferior courts of various styles and titles. Above all is the Supreme Tribunal of Justice at Lisbon, which is the final court of appeal, and the reputation of which is somewhat better than that of any other tribunal. The administration of criminal justice is naturally amongst the worst. According to common repute, the only consideration with the judges is how they are to get the costs paid—whether they are more likely to obtain them through an acquittal, which throws them on the prosecutor, or by a conviction. Also, it is generally said that the police themselves are recruited from amongst the very lowest classes.

The prisons are described as being something awful, only to be equalled in Morocco and savage countries. In the market-place of beautiful Cintra stands the prison, against the barred windows of which crowd the prisoners, begging for money, cigarettes, and food, which are supplied to them through the prison bars by their friends and sympathisers, and by soft-hearted people. Those who are incarcerated in the upper story have baskets, which they lower by means of strings, so that they may be supplied in the same manner. This seems to have amused Miss Leck (Iberian Sketches, Chap. VI.), but it assumes a much more serious aspect when one considers that in those filthy dens all the prisoners are huddled together—old men and boys, the murderer and the petty thief, habitual criminals and unfortunate persons taken into custody on mere suspicion, or charged with an alleged breach of some police or even railway regulation; for it must be remembered that a station-master has nearly the same power as a policeman in taking a person into custody. "No one shall be put in prison," says the Portuguese code, "except under special circumstances"; but when the exceptions are considered, they are found to cover nearly every abuse of authority on the part of the pettiest official which can be conceived. Hence, all persons are obliged to submit to gross injustice and to a certain amount of blackmail if they wish to avoid the noisome experiences of a Portuguese gaol.

The Portuguese must be undoubtedly "of a docile and orderly disposition," as Napier says, or the crying injustices to which they submit with such patience would lead them to revolt; and if this were to happen, who could attempt to predict what excesses would be left uncommitted by a violent southron mob whose passions had been roused to such a pitch of activity? Perhaps paciencia and amanha have their utility, and enable the people to bear the ills they have. They can even joke and caricature themselves, and though the comic journals are neither brilliant nor artistic, they show, at least, that a sense of humour is still left in our Lusitanian friends.



INDEX

Academies, 238, 243

Actors, 242

Agriculture, 167 et seq.

Alfonso XII., 28, 104, 144, 268, 273

Alfonso XIII., 98, 272

Amadeo, King, 143

American War, 192 et seq.

Amusements, 111 et seq.

Andaluces, 33

Andalucia, 33

Apostolic party, 9

Aragon, 29

Army, 183 et seq.

Art, 236 et seq.

Artillery, 187

Artistic furniture, 176

Arts and crafts, 175, 176

Asturian nurses, 27

Asturias, 26

Asturias, Princess of, 103, 219

Austrian kings, 15, 21, 22

Autos-da-fe, 18, 200, 201

Bank of Spain, 265

Barcelona, 266

Basque Provinces, 26, 27, 188

Basques, 28

Beggars, 226

Berwick y Alva, Duke of, 184

Bilbao, 11, 161, 177, 178, 266

Boletin de la Camara de Comercio, 163, 265

Bueyes, 28

Bull-fighters, 126 et seq.

Bulls, 95 et seq.

Bureaucracy, 148, 156

Cabestros, 95

Caciqueism, 145, 148 et seq.

Caesars, Spanish, 11, 12

Camarilla, 6

Campoamor, 61

Canovas del Castillo, 136

Capital, 174, 175

Carlos, Don, 7, 9, 10

Carriages, 88-90

Casa de Campo, 84, 85

Castelar, 139 et seq.

Castellano, 266

Castile, 31

Castilians, 11, 25, 32

Catalans, 25

Cataluna, 17, 175, 266

Cats, 79 et seq.

Cervantes, 47, 48

Cervera, Admiral, 47, 190, 193

Cesantes, 145-147

Characteristics, 38 et seq., 260

Charitable institutions, 227

Charles III., 22

Charles V., 14

Children, 233

Church, the, 9, 199

Cigar industry, 177

Clerical question, 21, 221, 272

Climate of Madrid, 65 et seq.

Climates of Spain, 167, 170

Cock-fighting, 112

Colonies, 147

Commerce, 156 et seq.

Concas Palan, 190

Confessional, 218, 222, 223

Conscription, 188

Constitution, 154

Consumption, 67, 68

Costume, national, 78, 79

Courage, 42 et seq.

Court, 97 et seq.

Cristina, Queen, 9, 98

Cuba, 147, 195

Dance and song, 113 et seq.

Dances, modern, 58, 59

Dances, national, 112 et seq.

Dances, religious, 208

Daoiz y Valarde, 46

Democratic feeling, 6, 39

Dignity, 38

Donkeys, 90, 92

Dos de Mayo, 45

Drama, modern, 209, 240 et seq.

Dramas, religious, 209-212

Dress of Spanish women, 62

Echegaray, 241

Education, 159, 213

Electra, 219, 242

Electrical science, 214

Elephant and bull, 126

Emperors, Roman, 12

Empleomania, 145, 146, 152

Engineers, 214

Espinosa, Monteros de, 102

Estremadura, 32

Etiquette of Spanish Court, 100 et seq.

Exports, 177

Factories, 175, 176, 266

Ferdinand and Isabella, 5, 13, 15

Ferdinand VII., 8, 22

Feria of Seville, 34

Fertility of soil, 73

Fiestas, 116, 206

Flowers, 73

Folklore, 253 et seq.

Ford, 51

French influence, 173

Fuente Castellana, 78

Fueros, 10, 28, 188

Fueros of Aragon, 29

Gala procession, 108, 109

Galdos, 219, 248

Galicia, 25, 26

Gallegos, 26, 87

Games, national, 111

Gayangos, 246

Geographical features, 178

Gloriosa, La, 10, 262

Goths, 12, 24

Government, 142 et seq.

Government, local, 153

Grandes of Spain, 100

Guitar, 113, 238

Hippodrome, 62

Horse-racing, 125

Horses, 91 et seq.

Iberian rejon, 118

Iberian unity, 251

Incas, 18

Independence, War of, 45

Industries, 161, 263 et seq.

Infantas, 54, 103, 106

Influence of the Press, 129

Inquisition, 19, 199, 200, 271

Irrigated land, 172

Irrigation, 171 et seq.

Isabel II., 6, 53, 107, 207

Isabel la Catolica, 5, 8, 15, 29, 270

Jaime, Don, 8

Jota Aragonesa, 114

Jesuits, 199, 213, 217, 218, 220 et seq., 272

Journalists, 130

King Alfonso XIII., 272, 273

Kings, Austrian, 21, 22

Kings, Bourbon, 8, 22, 118

Labour, 174

Lace, 165

Lagartijo, 122 et seq.

Land and people, 1

Land laws, 173

Landscape round Madrid, 71, 72

Land value, 172

Language, 266 et seq.

Literature, modern, 246 et seq.

Madrazo, 239, 244

Madrid, modern, 77

Madrid, old, 77

Manana, 52, 74, 195, 197

Manners, 40

Mantilla, 79

Manufactures, 164, 165, 175 et seq.

Manzanares, 83

Marriage customs, 229 et seq.

Medical science, 215

Meetings, political, 138

Mendizabal, 9, 23

Metal work, 176

Military system, 183 et seq.

Mineral wealth, 160 et seq.

Montpensier, Duke of, 104 et seq.

Moors, 17 et seq.

Mules, 90, 188, 255

Music, 81, 236

Narvaez, 249

National feeling, 184, 185, 193

National games, 31

Navy, 47, 189 et seq.

Newspapers, 132 et seq.

Nicknames, 106

Noche Buena, 108

Orders, religious, 203, 213, 219, 221, 272

Ostriches, 85

Outlook, 260 et seq.

Oxen, draught, 94

Pacing horses, 90

Painters, 239 et seq.

Palace Royal, 61

Palacioe, 23

Pardo Bazan, 251

Pardo, el, 85

Parque de Madrid, 71

Pasos, 210

Passion plays, 209, 212

Pavia, 140

Pavo, pelando el, 230

Peasants, 24 et seq.

Pelayo, 61

Pelota, 31, 111

People, 38 et seq.

Philip II., 16, 202, 271

Pigs, 166, 167

Poetry, 114, 268

Politeness, national, 39, 40, 51, 52

Political parties, 7, 134 et seq.

Politicians, 50, 135

Pollos and pollas, 88, 89

Ports and harbours, 178

Pottery, 175, 176

Poverty, 226

Press, 129 et seq.

Priesthood, 199, 218

Prim, 142-144

Procrastination, 52

Productive land, 172

Pronunciamientos, 144, 145, 147, 186

Protestants, 216

Pyrenees, 25, 30

Queen Cristina, 97, 98, 103

Queen Mercedes, 97, 106

Quemadero, 20, 201

Quijote, Don, 48

Quixotic characteristics, 48

Race, 24

Railways, 157 et seq.

Regent, 9, 98, 145

Religion, 37, 109, 198 et seq.

Republic, 139, 141

Restoration, 144

Revolution, 10, 262

Rice, 161

Riding, 89

Roads, 180

Roman Spain, 11, 12

Romero Robledo, 136, 137

Sagasta, 151

Sala, 33

Salic Law, 8, 9

Schools, 159, 160

Seises, los, 208, 209

Sericulture, 164

Serrano, 105

Sheep, merino, 32, 166

Shipping, 178

Silk manufactures, 16, 164

Silvela, 151

Smoking, 36, 60

Society, 55 et seq.

Songs, 33, 81, 82, 114, 238

Songs and dancing, 114

Spanish-American War, I, 192 et seq.

Sugar industry, 168

Superstitions popular, 102, 205, 233

Teatro Real, 62

Telegraphic system, 181

Terror of 1824, 22

Tertulia, 56 et seq.

Theatres, 62, 116

Tobacco, 177

Toledo, 15

Toothpicks, 63

Toreros, 121

Tribunal de las Aguas, 34

Universities, 159

Usted, de, 98

Valencia, 34

Valera, Juan, 61

Velo, 79

Verse-making, 257

Virgin, 37, 203

War of Independence, 45 et seq.

War, Spanish-American, 1, 192 et seq.

Wars, Carlist, 9

Water, want of, 169

Wellington, Duke of, 26

Weyler, General, 186

Wines, 162 et seq.

Women, 53, 62, 229 et seq., 249

Wood-carving, 176

Woollen manufactures, 164

Working men, 21, 83, 241, 261

Zarzuela, 116

Zorilla, 122, 252

Zortico zorisco, 115

PORTUGUESE LIFE

Agriculture, 301, 302

Aloes, 301

Amanha, 280

Amusements, 296, 302

Army, 298

Artisan class, 292

Bacalhao, 294

Bargaining, love of, 287

Brazilian elements, 287-291

Bull-fighting, 307 et seq.

Camoens, 281

Characteristics, 278 et seq., 284, 285

Charities, 296

Chula, 296

Cleanliness, 289

Coimbra, 283

Costumes, 285, 300

Customs, 285

Dances, 296

Decorations and forms of address, 289

Fish, 294

Fish-girls, 293

Funerals, 306

Gallegos, 292

Gallenga, 293

Government, local, 310

Insects, 290

Institutions, 298

Intellectual life, 281

Land and people, 277

Language, 283

Laws, 312

Lisbon, 281

Londonderry, Lord, 277

Manners and morality, 289

Medical training, 288

Military system, 298

Mineral wealth, 281

Moustachios, ladies', 286

National fare, 294

Navy, 299

Newspapers, 284

Octroi duties, 295

Oporto, 293

Oxen, 300

Peninsular War, 277

Police, 311

Postal service, 284

Prisons, 313

Religion, 304, 305 et seq.

Scenery, 285

Servants, 290

Society, 286

University, 283

Wages, 292

Wealth, 292

Wealth, mineral, 281

Women, 285, 287, 307

THE END



Our European Neighbours

Edited by WILLIAM HARBUTT DAWSON

12. Illustrated. Each, net $1.20 By Mail. 1.30

I.—FRENCH LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By HANNAH LYNCH.

"Miss Lynch's pages are thoroughly interesting and suggestive. Her style, too, is not common. It is marked by vivacity without any drawback of looseness, and resembles a stream that runs strongly and evenly between walls. It is at once distinguished and useful.... Her five-page description (not dramatization) of the grasping Paris landlady is a capital piece of work.... Such well finished portraits are frequent in Miss Lynch's book, which is small, inexpensive, and of a real excellence."—The London Academy.

"Miss Lynch's book is particularly notable. It is the first of a series describing the home and social life of various European peoples—a series long needed and sure to receive a warm welcome. Her style is frank, vivacious, entertaining, captivating, just the kind for a book which is not at all statistical, political, or controversial. A special excellence of her book, reminding one of Mr. Whiteing's, lies in her continual contrast of the English and the French, and she thus sums up her praises: 'The English are admirable: the French are lovable.' "—The Outlook.

II.—GERMAN LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By W. H. DAWSON, author of "Germany and the Germans," etc.

"The book is as full of correct, impartial, well-digested, and well-presented information as an egg is of meat. One can only recommend it heartily and without reserve to all who wish to gain an insight into German life. It worthily presents a great nation, now the greatest and strongest in Europe."—Commercial Advertiser.

III.—RUSSIAN LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By FRANCIS H. E. PALMER, sometime Secretary to H. H. Prince Droutskop-Loubetsky (Equerry to H. M. the Emperor of Russia).

"We would recommend this above all other works of its character to those seeking a clear general understanding of Russian life, character, and conditions, but who have not the leisure or inclination to read more voluminous tomes.... It cannot be too highly recommended, for it conveys practically all that well-informed people should know of 'Our European Neighbours.'"—Mail and Express.

IV.—DUTCH LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By P. M. HOUGH, B.A.

"There is no other book which gives one so clear a picture of actual life in the Netherlands at the present date. For its accurate presentation of the Dutch situation in art, letters, learning, and politics as well as in the round of common life in town and city, this book deserves the heartiest praise."—Evening Post.

"Holland is always interesting, in any line of study. In this work its charm is carefully preserved. The sturdy toil of the people, their quaint characteristics, their conservative retention of old dress and customs, their quiet abstention from taking part in the great affairs of the world are clearly reflected in this faithful mirror. The illustrations are of a high grade of photographic reproductions."—Washington Post.

V.—SWISS LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By ALFRED T. STORY, author of the "Building of the British Empire," etc.

"We do not know a single compact book on the same subject in which Swiss character in all its variety finds so sympathetic and yet thorough treatment; the reason of this being that the author has enjoyed privileges of unusual intimacy with all classes, which prevented his lumping the people as a whole without distinction of racial and cantonal feeling."—Nation.

"There is no phase of the lives of these sturdy republicans, whether social or political, which Mr. Story does not touch upon; and an abundance of illustrations drawn from unhackneyed subjects adds to the value of the book."—Chicago Dial.

VI.-SPANISH LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By L. HIGGIN.

"Illuminating in all of its chapters. She writes in thorough sympathy, born of long and intimate acquaintance with Spanish people of to-day."—St. Paul Press.

"The author knows her subject thoroughly and has written a most admirable volume. She writes with genuine love for the Spaniards, and with a sympathetic knowledge of their character and their method of life."—Canada Methodist Review.

VII.—ITALIAN LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By LUIGI VILLARI.

"A most interesting and instructive volume, which presents an intimate view of the social habits and manner of thought of the people of which it treats."—Buffalo Express.

"A book full of information, comprehensive and accurate. Its numerous attractive illustrations add to its interest and value. We are glad to welcome such an addition to an excellent series."—Syracuse Herald.

VIII.—DANISH LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By JESSIE H. BROCHNER.

"Miss Brochner has written an interesting book on a fascinating subject, a book which should arouse an interest in Denmark in those who have not been there, and which can make those who know and are attracted by the country very homesick to return."—Commercial Advertiser.

"She has sketched with loving art the simple, yet pure and elevated lives of her countrymen, and given the reader an excellent idea of the Danes from every point of view."—Chicago Tribune.

IX.—AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By FRANCIS H. E. PALMER, author of "Russian Life in Town and Country," etc.

"No volume in this interesting series seems to us so notable or valuable as this on Austro-Hungarian life. Mr. Palmer's long residence in Europe and his intimate association with men of mark, especially in their home life, has given to him a richness of experience evident on every page of the book."—The Outlook.

"This book cannot be too warmly recommended to those who have not the leisure or the spirit to read voluminous tomes of this subject, yet we wish a clear general understanding of Austro-Hungarian life."—Hartford Times.

X.—TURKISH LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By L. M. J. GARNETT.

Miss Garnett, while not altogether ignoring the dark side of life in the Empire, portrays more particularly the peaceable life of the people—the domestic, industrial, social, and religious life and customs, the occupations and recreations, of the numerous and various races within the Empire presided over by the Sultan.

"The general tone of the book is that of a careful study, the style is flowing, and the matter is presented in a bright, taking way."—St. Paul Press.

"To the average mind the Turk is a little better than a blood-thirsty individual with a plurality of wives and a paucity of virtues. To read this book is to be pleasantly disillusioned."—Public Opinion.

XI.—BELGIAN LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By DEMETRIUS C. BOULGER.

"Mr. Boulger has given a plain, straight-forward account of the several phases of Belgian Life, the government, the court, the manufacturing centers and enterprises, the literature and science, the army, education and religion, set forth informingly."—The Detroit Free Press.

"The book is one of real value conscientiously written, and well illustrated by good photographs."—The Outlook.

XII.—SWEDISH LIFE IN TOWN AND COUNTRY

By G. VON HEIDENSTAM.

THE END