Project Gutenberg's Readings from Modern Mexican Authors, by Frederick Starr This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license Title: Readings from Modern Mexican Authors Author: Frederick Starr Release Date: September 2, 2016 [EBook #52968] Language: English Character set encoding: UTF-8 *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MODERN MEXICAN AUTHORS *** Produced by Larry B. Harrison, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive) [cover image unavailable.] Contents. The author's spelling of Spanish words and names has not been corrected. (In certain versions of this etext [in certain browsers] clicking on the image will bring up a larger version.) (etext transcriber's note) READINGS FROM {i} MODERN MEXICAN AUTHORS BY FREDERICK STARR CHICAGO THE OPEN COURT PUBLISHING COMPANY London: Kegan Paul, Trench, Trübner & Co., Ltd. 1904 Copyrighted, 1904 BY FREDERICK STARR Chicago THIS LITTLE BOOK IS DEDICATED TO SEÑOR DON VICTORIANO AGÜEROS, AUTHOR OF Escritores Mexicanos Contemporaneos, EDITOR OF El Tiempo, PUBLISHER OF La Biblioteca de Autores Mexicanos, FAITHFUL FRIEND, VALUED HELPER. CONTENTS. Eduardo Noriega 1 Antonio García Cubas 15 Joaquín García Icazbalceta 26 Agustin Rivera 43 Alfredo Chavero 59 Julio Zárate 77 José María Vigil 87 Primo Feliciano Velásquez 94 Juan F. Molina Solis 106 Luis Gonzales Obregón 118 Francisco Sosa 132 Julio Guerrero 150 Alejandro Villaseñor y Villaseñor 168 Rafael Ángel de la Peña 181 Ignacio Montes de Oca y Obregón 189 Ignacio M. Altamirano 204 Victoriano Agüeros 216 Manuel Gustavo Antonio Revilla 228 José Peon y Contreras 243 José María Roa Bárcena 259 Justo Sierra 275 Victoriano Salado Álbarez 288 Ireneo Paz 301 José López-Portillo y Rojas 313 Manuel Sánches Mármol 334 Porfirio Parra 358 Emilio Rabasa 373 Rafael Delgado 392 Federico Gamboa 405 PREFACE. {ii} {iii} {v} {vi} {vii} When I began visiting Mexico, in 1894, my knowledge of Mexican authors was limited to those who had written upon its archæology and ethnography. Even the names of its purely literary writers were unknown to me. My first acquaintance with these came from reading some of the writings of Icazbalceta, a critical historian of whom any nation might well be proud, and a man of literary ability. I then sought the books of other Mexican authors and have been accustomed, when in Mexico, to read only those, in such hours of leisure as travel and work have left me. This reading has led me to prepare this little book, in the hope that it may introduce, to some of my countrymen, the literary men of the neighboring Republic. I call the book Readings from Modern Mexican Authors; I might almost have said Living Mexican Authors, for my intention has been to include only such. I have, for personal reasons, made two exceptions—including Icazbalceta and Altamirano. This I have done because I owe much to their writings and because both were living, when I first visited Mexico. Mexican authors write, to a notable degree, for periodical publications. Many Mexican newspapers devote space to literary matter and many extensive works in fiction, in history, in social science and political economy have appeared as brief chapters in newspapers and have never been reprinted. Mexico is remarkably fond, also, of literary journals, most of which have a brief existence. Many of the writings of famous Mexican writers exist only in one or other of these forms of fugitive publication, and are almost inaccessible. The tendency to republish in book form grows, however, and Señor Agüeros is doing an excellent work, with his Biblioteca de Autores Mexicanos (Library of Mexican Authors), now carried to more than fifty volumes, in which the collected works of good authors, past and present, are being printed. Of course, many authors have been omitted from my list, some of whom may have well deserved inclusion; I have omitted none for personal reasons. Specialists, unless they have written literary works outside of their especial field of study, have been intentionally omitted. Men like Nicolás Leon, Herréra, Orvañanos, Belmar, Batres, could not be left out in a history of Mexican literature, but their writings do not lend themselves to translation of brief passages to represent the literary spirit of the country. It has not been easy to devise a definite plan of arrangement for my selections, but the matter is roughly grouped in the following order—Geography, History, Biography, Public Questions, Literature, Drama, Narrative, Fiction. One demand, made of all the material, is that it shall show Mexico, Mexican life, Mexican thought. Every selection is Mexican in topic and in color; together the selections form a series of Mexican pictures painted by Mexican hands. I hesitate at my final remark, because it will sound like a lame excuse for failure. It is not such. In these translations I have not aimed at a finished English form. I have, intentionally, made them extremely literal; I have sometimes selected an uncouth English word if it exactly translates the author, have frequently followed the Mexican form and order of words, and have even allowed my punctuation to be affected by the original. To the English critic the result will be unpleasing, but to those who wish to know Mexico and Mexican thought, it will be a gain. And it is for these that my little book is written. The sections dealing with Icazbalceta, López-Portillo, Altamirano, Agüeros, Roa Bárcena, Obregón and Chavero, were originally published in Unity. Part of the matter relative to Guerrero, has been printed in the American Journal of Sociology. READINGS FROM MODERN MEXICAN AUTHORS. EDUARDO NORIEGA. [Image unavailable.] Eduardo Noriega was born in the city of Mexico on October 4, 1853. He came of a notable family of Liberals, his father being General Domingo Noriega, and his brother Carlos, being, at the time of his death, adjutant-colonel to President Juarez. Eduardo was educated in the Escuela Nacional Preparatoria (National Preparatory School), where he spent five years and received his bachelor’s degree. Since that time he has dedicated himself to literary work and to teaching. He has written both prose and poetry. Besides two volumes of verse, he has printed a number of monologues—among them Primeros nubes (First clouds), El mejor Diamante (The better diamond) and La hija de la caridad (The daughter of charity). He has translated dramatic writings and has himself written two plays. From the age of forty years he has confined his teaching and writing to scientific subjects. He holds the chair of History and Geography in the Escuela de Comercio y Administracion (School of Commerce and Administration). He is author of a Geografía general (General geography), which has gone through two editions, of a capital Geografía de Mexico, and of a handy Atlas de Mexico miniatura (Miniature atlas of Mexico) which is in its third edition. {viii} {ix} {1} {2} Eduardo Noriega is a directing member of the Sociedad Mexicana de Geografía y Estadistica (Mexican Society of Geography and Statistics) and many valuable papers read by him before that body are printed in its Bulletin. Our selections are taken from his Geografía de Mexico. A school text-book of geography is hardly a promising place in which to seek examples of literary value, but in his descriptions Noriega often shows facility in expression and felicity in statement. CLIMATIC ZONES OF MEXICO. The climatic contrasts occasioned by the mountainous relief, are sharply produced only in the middle portion of the Republic, that is to say, in the central mesa and upon the slopes of the cordillera. The section from one coast to the other, from Vera Cruz to Acapulco, for example, is the line best situated for observing well-marked climatic changes. The low zone of the seaboard contains, at once, the marshes and the barren sands of the coast, the well-watered open plains, and the lower slopes, where the luxuriant branchings of a thousand differing trees mingle and crowd, closely bound together by festoons of trailing and pendent vines, forming lovely masses of verdure, sprinkled through with fruits of many and brilliant colors, which stand out conspicuously from the magnificent, chlorophyll-laden foliage, and above all of which tower the graceful forms of palm trees. To such a charming tropical combination is given the name—tierra caliente (hot land). Within this range, where the temperature passes 23° C., there are places which must be included among the hottest on the globe; such, for example, is the port of La Paz, in Lower California. The high temperature of this region, gave to it the name, derived from the words calida fornax, which signify hot oven. Above the two seaboard zones, one sloping toward the Gulf, the other toward the Pacific, rises the tierra templada (temperate land), at an altitude of from 1000 m. to 2000 m., but higher in the south than in the north. This region corresponds to the southwest of Europe, not so much in climate—for it has no winter—as in mean temperature, productivity and salubrity. Lastly, the central tableland, the part of the territory where the maguey is cultivated with notable profit and every class of cereals is produced, constitutes the tierra fria (cold land). It is the most populous part of the Republic. In the high valleys, as those of Toluca and Mexico, the descent of the mercurial column often shows considerable falls of temperature; in winter the column reaches 8° or 10° below 0 C. and frosts are frequent. In general, however, the winters are mild. The mean temperature is from 13° to 14° C. In many places exceptional conditions have brought the vegetable areas into abrupt juxtaposition; thus, while upon the summit of some ridge, only plants of European character may live and flourish, in the plains surrounding it are seen palms and bananas. From the summit of the great volcanoes, the three superposed zones may be clearly seen, at once. The rapid communication, which today happily exists, presents to the traveler the marvelous opportunity of passing, in a few hours, through the three distinct regions of which we speak, which in other parts of the globe are separated by thousands of kilometres. In some places these zones remain clearly distinguished from one another, but this is exceptional, since commonly they crowd upon each other, mingling one with another by imperceptible transitions. It is common to mention some certain place as belonging to one and the other zone, because the line of separation for both runs irregularly in mountainous regions. A zone of reciprocal penetration has been formed, on account of the multiple phenomena of temperature, of winds and of plant groupings. So, too, cañons and slopes are met with, which, by their vegetation, may be considered foci of tierra caliente, included within the fully developed tierra templada. POPOCATEPETL. The valley of Mexico lies, then, surrounded by various chains, which are: to the north the Sierra de Pitos and its branches, of which one is the Sierra de Guadalupe; to the east the Sierra de Zinguilacan, which ends in an extensive ridge, channeled by deep furrows, which connect the Sierra mentioned with the Sierra Nevada. By means of mountains and ridges forming the Sierra de Xuchitepec, to the southeast of the valley, the Sierra Nevada is connected with that of Ajusco, which is connected to the southwest with that of Las Cruces, which, extending to the northwest, forms the Cordillera de Monte Alto, which is connected, as already stated, with the western arm of the Sierra de los Pitos. In all these chains there are heights of importance such as; in the Sierra Nevada, Popocatepetl, lovely volcano, and Ixtaccihuatl, merely a snow-cap.... Popocatepetl—smoking mountain—is the highest mountain in Mexican territory and measures 5452 m. above sea-level. The ascent of this colossus is full of discomforts, but when these have been endured, the result is surprising. The most suitable road for the ascent is the one which goes from Amecameca to the ranch of Tlamacas, which is situated at 3897 m. altitude and almost at the limit of tree growth; the trees there met with are stunted; the day temperature is 8°, and at night 0 C., in summer. In winter these temperatures are more extreme. Until one thousand metres beyond the ranch some firs are seen, which are the last; to these follows a soil covered with a dark sand, very fine and slippery, over which the horses can scarcely make their way. Here and there upon this sandy zone are tufts of dry grass. These gradually disappear, until, finally, there remains no sign of vegetation. A little later snow begins, at a place called La Cruz, to which a great wooden cross, reared upon a heap of rocks, gives name. At this point, the line of perpetual snow is found, at 4300 m., little more or less, above sea-level. From here the ascent is made on foot, and ever over the snow. The trail zigzags, because the slope is 24° or 25°, becoming more abrupt, until reaching 30° and 34°, at times. The walking is, naturally, very difficult. When some hundred metres have been traversed, great difficulty in breathing begins to be experienced, the lungs feel oppressed, and every step, every movement of the body, causes great fatigue and compels the stopping to take breath. Feeble constitutions cannot endure the weariness and illness which are experienced. The reflection of the sun upon the snow is intense, for which reason the wearing of dark glasses is necessary. The face should also be veiled, to prevent the vertigo, which the white sheet surrounding the traveler produces toward the middle of the journey; when the day is fine and the atmosphere clear, the panorama is incomparably beautiful. The city of Puebla is clearly seen, and, at a greater distance the peak of Orizaba and the Cofre of Perote. There may also be {3} {4} {5} {6} {7} seen, with all clearness, the summit of Ixtaccihuatl, totally without a crater. After some four hours of travel, the end of the journey, the summit of the volcano is reached; the last steps are particularly difficult, because the slope is now 40° and the rarity of the air is greater; progress is difficult. From the point where the crater is reached it is not easy to take full cognizance of its depth, though the general form may be appreciated. This is elliptical; the major diameter measures some fifty metres more than the other. A crest of rock, of varying elevation, forms the edge, which makes it very irregular; it is very narrow; a simple step leads from the outer, to the inner, slope. This edge presents two heights—one is the Espinazo del Diablo (Devil’s Backbone), the other is the Pico Mayor (Greater peak), which is, as its name indicates, the highest point of the volcano, being 150 m. higher than the Espinazo. The Pico Mayor is almost inaccessible, but its summit may, with difficulty, be reached. The major diameter of the crater corresponds to the two summits named, has some 850 m. length, and its direction is from south 20° west to north 20° east. The transverse diameter may be estimated at 750 m., which would give the crater a circumference of 2,500 m. In descending from the border, the crater presents three distinct parts; a slope of 65°, a vertical wall seventy metres in height, and another slope, which extends to the bottom. In total, the mean depth of this imposing abyss will reach 250 m. to 300 m. At the place, where the vertical wall begins and the first slope ends, there has been set up a sort of a windlass, below which an enormous beam slopes downward toward the abyss; by this beam, and lowered by a cord, the workmen who extract sulphur descend. In the bottom of the crater are four fumaroles, whence vapors escape, which in issuing produce slight hissing sounds. Abundant deposits of sulphur exist near these. Besides the fumaroles mentioned, there are seven points at the borders of the crater, where gases escape, though in less abundance; six of these points lie to the east of the major diameter, and the seventh on the opposite side. All are inaccessible. The interior of the crater is formed by sheets, which form a regular wall with vertical sides. In some places these layers are profoundly shattered and there various species of rocks, of notably different natures are seen; first, below, are sheets of trachyte, very compact and rich in crystals of striated feldspar and partly decomposed amphibole; above these more or less regular trachytic layers are beds of well-characterized basalt—also very compact and rich in peridote; lastly, above these layers are porous scoriæ, of dark purple color, which indicates the presence of a considerable quantity of iron oxide. These scoriæ must have originated from the fusion of the porphyritic rocks. Every little while, at the summit, rage violent storms of snow, which falls in thick sheets; at such times the atmospheric clouds do not permit objects to be seen at a metre’s distance and the temperature falls to 20° and 22° below 0 C. The exploitation of the sulphur is insignificant since only some forty-eight or fifty tons are taken out, in a year; this sulphur is distilled at the ranch of Tlamacas; it is sold in Mexico and Puebla at the same price as that of Sicily—that of Popocatepetl being superior in quality. The snow, too, on the side of Ozumba, is exploited, but this exploitation is on the smallest scale. Various expeditions have been organized for the ascent of Popocatepetl, some scientific in nature, others for amusement. The first was made in 1519 by Diego de Ordaz, one of the soldiers of Cortes; others followed. In our own day, such expeditions are frequent and their results happily verify each other. Ixtaccihuatl,—“white woman”—connected to Popocatepetl by a ridge of graceful outline, rises to 5,288 m. altitude above sea- level. Down the slopes of this mountain, several torrents, derived from the melting snows, pour and form cascades and falls up to forty- five metres in height. These same slopes, covered by a sheet of astonishingly rich and luxuriant vegetation are gashed by deep crevices, in which are enormous masses of porphyritic and basaltic rocks. Conifers form dense forests up to 3,000 m. altitude; from there the vigor of arborescent vegetation diminishes and at 4,000 m. it completely ceases; from that point on there are only stretches of brambles, which completely disappear at about 4,200 m.; then follow the sands, and, lastly, the perpetual snows, which begin at 4,300 m. The crest, which is very grand and beautiful, resembles in the arrangement of its rock masses, the form of a woman’s body, stretched at length upon its back, and covered by a white winding sheet. From this, the name of white woman,—izta, white; cihuatl, woman—with which this lovely mountain was baptized by the dreamy imagination of the Aztecs. THE CAVERN OF CACAHUAMILPA. In the limestone mountains of Cacahuamilpa, thirty kilometres north from Tasco, in a ravine, lies the village of the same name, near which is situated the famous cavern, one of the most beautiful in the world, commonly designated by the name of the gruta de Cacahuamilpa (grotto of Cacahuamilpa).... Dominating the eminence formed in the cordillera running eastward and which has already been mentioned, is perceived the great mouth of the cavern, with the green festoons of foliage which adorn it and some stalactitic formations which seem to announce the marvels of the interior. Access to this entrance is gained by a short and narrow path. The mouth measures five metres in its greatest height and thirty-six metres from side to side; after it has been traversed, there begins a plane sloping toward the interior; the soil is sandy; shortly one arrives at the first gallery, which is lighted by the sunlight. This gallery is very large; its walls are formed of enormous masses of tilted rocks, which look as if about to fall; the spacious and lofty vault is furrowed by broad and deep crevices and from it hang many stalactites in the form of columns, or colossal pear-shaped masses of marble. Crossing the broad space of this gallery, a second is reached, where the darkness is dense and appalling, the torches scarcely dispel the gloom, and the spirit is oppressed. In the first gallery the most notable concretions are “the enchanted goat” and “the columns.” The former has lost much of its resemblance, as the head of the goat has fallen, but the second is wonderfully beautiful, because of its astonishing originality; its form is that of a column adorned with a capital, in the form of a tuft of plumes, which supports the base of a natural arch. The third gallery, called “the pulpit” on account of the shape of its principal concretion is no less beautiful, grand, and imposing, than the preceding. Here the darkness is absolute. Beyond this third gallery there are twelve more, very imperfectly known; they are called—the cauliflower, the shell, the {8} {9} {10} {11} {12} {13} candelabrum, the gothic tower, the palm tree, the pineapple, the labyrinth, the fountain, and the organ-pipes. The rest have no special names. All of these galleries are marvelously beautiful; all are extensive and have lofty vaultings. The total extent of the cavern is unknown; though the guides assert that it ends in the gallery of the organ-pipes, there are indications that the statement is false. These indications are: the air, which, even at such profound depths, is perfectly respirable; the lack of exploration; the superstitious fears of the guides to go further; and, some traditions, which declare that new galleries exist and have been explored by persons, who report a rushing torrent producing a terrible noise, for which reason no one cares to penetrate further. But, although the extent of the cavern is unknown and the gallery of the organ-pipes may not be the last, we ought not to believe the reports, which give the cavern immense extension. For example, some say that the galleries and ramifications extend to the mountains of Tasco, and there is one tradition, which affirms that the cavern prolongs itself, through the interior of the mountains which limit the Valley of Mexico on the south, until it unites with the cavern of Teutli, near Milpa Alta. This tradition, although improbable, is curious; it states that some families hid their treasure in the cave which occurs in the mountain of Teutli; this has a very narrow entrance at first, but after some twelve or fifteen metres broadens, forming a most beautiful cavern; this cavern has a series of chambers, of greater or lesser size, which finally communicate with the cave of Cacahuamilpa, more than one hundred kilometres distant. The tradition cited adds that but few persons have dared to penetrate the cave of Teutli, and on but one occasion, a herd of sheep having entered it, some peons followed to collect and bring them out—a thing they could not do because the animals penetrated far into the cave; those who went in pursuit of them returned after two days of journeying through these rough passages. In conclusion, it only remains to state, that the existence of the cavern of Cacahuamilpa remained unknown to everyone, until the year 1833. Before that year, not even the Indians had entered it, because they believed that the stalagmite in the form of a goat was a bad spirit, that guarded the mysteries, which the cavern enclosed; but a criminal who took refuge in it and was there during the period of his pursuit, after which he returned to his home, astonished the inhabitants of Tetecala by his fantastic reports; they made the first exploration and announced their expedition, describing the wonderful cavern. Since then, until now, expeditions have not lacked; unhappily, none of them has been scientific. ANTONIO GARCÍA CUBAS. [Image unavailable.] Antonio García Cubas was born July 24, 1832, in the City of Mexico. He began study looking toward engineering in the year 1845, although not actually taking the degree of engineer until 1865. His technical studies were pursued in the Colegio de San Gregorio, the Minería (School of Mines), and the Academia de San Carlos. His studies were repeatedly interrupted by appointments of importance and by public commissions. Thus, in 1853 he published a general map of the Mexican Republic. Since that date he has done much geographical and engineering work of importance. In 1865, he served on the Scientific Commission of Pachuca. In 1866 he did the leveling for the Mexican Railway to Tulancingo. He published his first Atlas in 1857; in 1863, his Carta general (General map), in 1876 his Carta administrativa (Administrative map), in 1878, his Carta orohydrographica (Orographic- hydrographic map), still perhaps the best maps of Mexico, of their kind. In 1882, his great Atlas, geografico, estadistico, y pintoresco de la Republica Mexicana (Geographical, Statistical, and Picturesque Atlas of the Mexican Republic) was published. In addition to these and other equally important scientific works, Señor García Cubas has written various school books in geography, history, etc. Our selections are taken from a little volume, Escritos diversos (Miscellaneous Writings). The work of Señor García Cubas has received wide and well-deserved recognition. He is a member of the Geographical Societies of Paris, Lisbon, Madrid and Rome; he has received scores of medals and diplomas; he holds the Cross of the Legion of Honor. In his own country he is a member of all the scientific societies but has naturally been most interested in the Sociedad Mexicana de Geografía y Estadstica (The Mexican Society of Geography and Statistics). He has ever been active in movements for public advancement and among many results of his interest we may mention the Conservatory of Music. THE INDIANS OF MEXICO. The statistical data, imperfect though they have been, have given force and value to the opinion, which for me is a fact, that the indigenous race becomes debilitated and decreases in proportion as the white race becomes strong and advances. This fact is in complete accord with the laws of nature; the disadvantage of the indigenous race consists, for its decrease, in its customs and in the hygienic conditions of its mode of life. A miserable hut serves as a habitation for a numerous family and in it, the inmates actually packed together, cannot but breathe a polluted air; food is scanty and innutritious, while the daily occupations are heavy and hard. Sad {13} {14} {15} {16} {17} indeed is the sight of these unhappy indigenes who without distinction of sex and age are encountered in our city streets and who, exhausted under the weight of enormous burdens, return to their villages with the miserable pittance gained from their trading. If we consider the Indian from the time of his birth, or even from before his birth, we see his life to be but a series of miseries and abjections. The Indian women, even at the time of travail, do not cease from their wearisome tasks and, without thought for the being who stirs within them, occupy themselves in grinding maize and making tortillas, labors which cannot but prove hurtful to the act of giving birth. While the period of suckling has not passed, the child is fed with tortillas and fruits and other foods unsuited to its digestive powers, causing by such imprudence diarrhœas and other diseases, which carry the children to the grave or, as they grow, leaves them infirm and feeble. Smallpox, in consequence of the neglect of the parents and their indifference to vaccination, causes frightful ravages —the disease being most pernicious in the indigenous race. Such statistics as I possess of the movement of population in the pueblo of Ixtacalco, while they indicate that the Civil Registry has not yet extended its dominion to that pueblo, corroborate the opinion that the decrease of the race is mainly due to infant mortality. In 1868 there were born 165 There died 190 Loss 25 In this mortality there were one hundred and forty children. In the year 1869, although the data show an augmentation of fifty-nine persons in the population, the infant deaths number sixty-five, to thirty-four of adults. One fact ought to particularly call our attention because it proves that the degradation of the race is not in its constitution but in the customs of its members. The Indian women of the villages near the Capital, hiring themselves out as nurses in private homes, rear healthful and robust children, because in their new employment they improve their condition, by enforced cleanliness, by good food, and by the total change in their hygienic conditions. But this very circumstance is a serious misfortune for the race, the women impelled by the desire to gain better wages, abandoning their own children to the mercenary cares of other women, as if the lack of a mother’s love and care could be made good! Another of the reasons which, in my opinion, cause the degeneration of the indigenous race, is that marriage takes place unwisely and prematurely. According to medical opinion, the nubile age of woman in our country is eighteen years, in the hot lands fourteen; between medical theory and actual practice there is an enormous difference. As regards the Indians, frequently union occurs between a woman scarcely arrived at the term of her development and a man of forty years or more, entirely developed and robust; as a consequence, the woman becomes debilitated and infirm and her children are weak and degenerate. If to these causes, which operate so powerfully toward the decrease of the indigenous race, is added the sensible diminution it has suffered in our civil wars,—since the indigenous race supplies far the larger part of the army—the truth of my assertion seems fully corroborated. THE SEASONS IN THE VALLEY OF MEXICO. Few must be the places in the world which, from the picturesque and poetical point of view, surpass in beauty the Valley of Mexico. The varied phenomena, which the seasons of the year there present, powerfully contribute to this. Some European savants assert that the seasons of the year are, in the intertropical regions, reduced to two, the dry and rainy seasons. In our country this assertion is without foundation. The truth is, that, in those regions, weather variations less sharply determine seasonal changes than in the temperate zones; but, in the Valley of Mexico seasonal changes really take place as shown by the beautiful fresh mornings of its Spring, prodigal in exquisite and varied flowers; the hot days of its rainy Summer, rich in delicious fruits; the warm afternoons of Autumn with its wondrously beautiful drifting clouds, and the cold nights of Winter, with its clear and starry sky. As the last hours of night shorten in the lovely season of Spring, the deep darkness which envelopes the earth’s surface dissipates little by little and objects become visible as the delicate light of dawn gradually invades the east. The sun’s rays, propagating themselves with a constant undulatory movement, cause successive reflections and refractions, in the atmosphere and clouds, scattering the light in every direction and permitting the distinguishing of objects not yet directly illuminated by that body. If this light, known by the name of diffused or scattered light, did not exist, the shadow cast by a cloud, or by any object whatever, would produce the darkness of night, and—there being no twilight—the sun would appear on the horizon suddenly and in full splendor. The sweet trills of the goldfinch, the warbling of other birds, the harmonious sound of bells, which announce in the towns the hour of dawn, and the laborer, who betakes himself to the field, with his oxen, to begin his daily labors, mark the moments in which the splendid rays of the sun, which precede the rising of the luminary, diffuse themselves through the transparent fluid of the atmosphere. Before the sun mounts above the horizon the eastern heavens are successively colored with the brilliant tints of red, orange, yellow, green, and purple; the limit of the white light of dawn, extending in the form of an arch through space, rapidly advances toward the zenith, while, at the same time, the upper heavens about that point, gradually acquire the most intense hue of azure. The crest of the eastern cordillera sharpens and defines itself against a background of rose and gold; the majestic snow caps of Popocatepetl and Iztaccihuatl, which rise as two colossi in order to display the beauties of the sunrise, feebly illuminated on their western flanks by the diffused light, appear as if made of Bohemian crystal. At times a dense column of smoke, rendered visible by the whiteness of dawn, issues from the crater of Popocatepetl, demonstrating the constant activity of this volcano, which retains evidences of tremendous activity. When the sun, rising above the horizon, pursues its upward march, it presents a beautiful spectacle, difficult of description. Its disc, red and apparently increased in size, on account of atmospheric refraction, presents itself surrounded by a luminous aureole, and gradually diminishes in diameter as it mounts higher. The antecrepuscular curve submerged in the horizon, the west acquires the same succession of tints and the upper part of the sky is colored with a brilliant, most vivid blue. From that moment the surroundings of the Capital city are most charming. Chapultepec, with its many and limpid springs, its {18} {19} {20} {21} {22} picturesque rock mass, its poetic palace and its dense grove of ancient cypresses, from the branches of which depend masses of gray moss—the honored locks of their hoary age; Tacubaya with its palaces, its parks, and gardens; Mixcoac with its pleasing environs and its lanes of fruit trees; San Angel, Coyoacan, and Tlalpam, with their clear brooks, their gardens, their fields, and their pretty glades, covered with plants, trees, and interlacing climbers. In all these places one enjoys the intoxicating freshness of the morning, the attractiveness of the fields, the breathing of the fresh air loaded with the perfume of flowers. There swarms of butterflies, with gleaming and brilliant wings, display their beauties and humming- birds, those precious winged gems which, endowed with an extraordinary flight, cleave the air like an exhalation, or, sucking honey from some flower, suspended in space, incessantly beat their wings and expose the green and pearly lustre of their plumage to the reflections of the sun. South of the capital, the soil differs from that of the places mentioned. There the camelia, the lily, the Bengal-rose, and the other exquisite flowers of careful cultivation are not met; but there, in the chinampas, those artificial islands which have converted swamps into lovely gardens, grow the luxuriant poppy, the purple pink, the elegant dahlia, the perfumed violet, and the fragrant rose of Castile. The canal which unites the lakes of Texcoco and Xochimilco in the days of Spring is to be seen covered with canoes loaded with flowers and vegetables bound for the city markets; and everyone, who has participated in the Lenten festivities of the Viga, will ever remember, with delight, the animation that constantly reigns in that place, where the common people finds its greatest joy. It may be said that there is the place of the festival of Spring and flowers. * * * * Summer, in the Valley, as the other seasons of the year, has its especial attractiveness. The atmospheric strata being unequally expanded by the fierce heat from the earth’s surface, the order or arrangement of the layers in contact with the soil is, so to say, inverted. It is well known that the lower layers of air have the greater density, from the fact that the upper layers weigh down upon them; from the earth’s surface upward there is a gradual decrease in density until the last, the lightest and most subtle, which is called ether. This general law being interfered with by the expansion of the lower layers, refraction of the light rays,—or the deviation which they suffer in passing from one medium into another of differing density—takes place in a manner contrary to that when the atmospheric layers are normally superposed, and the mirage[1] is produced, an optical illusion, which causes us to see objects, below the horizon or in the air, inverted. In the dry and level stretches in the north of the Valley, one frequently sees the thick vapor stretch itself out over the surface of the ground, and upon it, inverted, are portrayed the mountains with all their irregularities and details, as if reproduced in a limpid mirror of waters. The mirage is yet more interesting, more wonderful, in the Lake of Texcoco, though the phenomenon is there less frequent. On clear days, from the shore, one sees the full extent of the lake and the tranquillity of its water. Miserable, frail canoes, the form of which has not varied since the days of the conquest, are seen crossing the lake, loaded with grains and vegetables for the Mexican markets. The unsteady and narrow chalupas of the fishermen and flower-dealers rapidly cleave the watery surface and only the creaking of the oars, or the notes of the monotonous songs of the boatmen break the silence of the solitude. When the temperature of the water of the lake is less than that of the air with which it is in contact, those little crafts suddenly disappear from the surface of the water and are seen, inverted, floating in the air, coursing to the stroke of the oars, through a shifting sea of clouds. JOAQUÍN GARCÍA ICAZBALCETA. [Image unavailable.] No name better deserves to be first mentioned in the list of modern Mexican writers than that of Joaquín García Icazbalceta. He was born in the City of Mexico Aug. 25, 1825. His father was a Spaniard, his mother a Mexican. On account of the disorders connected with the Revolution, his parents left Mexico, going first to the United States and later to Spain, where they remained until 1836. In that year they returned to Mexico. The boy showed early earnestness in study and was well instructed by private tutors. He was acquainted with and encouraged by the great historian, Lucas Alaman, who no doubt had much to do with his decision, about 1846, to devote himself to historical study. The list of his works is a long one. He translated Prescott’s Conquest of Peru into Spanish and enriched it with valuable notes. To the well known Diccionario Universal de Historia y Geografía (Universal Dictionary of History and Geography) he contributed the biographical sketches of many personages of the sixteenth century. In 1858 he began publishing the Coleccion de Documentos {23} {24} {25} {26} {27} para la Historia de México (Collection of Documents for the History of Mexico), two volumes of ancient, and for the most part unknown, matter of the highest value. This was continued by the publication in 1870 of Mendieta’s Historia Ecclesiastica Indiana (Ecclesiastical History of the Indians). Still later in 1886-1892 these volumes were followed by four similar volumes under the name Nueva Coleccion de Documentos para la Historia de México (New Collection of Documents for the History of Mexico). These papers were all original works, many of them from the sixteenth century, of the greatest importance and interest, and most, if not all, of them would have been lost or never known but for Icazbalceta’s care. In publishing this matter our author always added notes and explanations, characterized by lucidity, interest, and learning. Two important works were published in 1875 and 1877—México en 1554 (Mexico in 1554) and Coloquios espirituales y sacramentales y Poesias sagradas (Spiritual and Sacramental Colloquies and Sacred Poems). The former was a reprint of three interesting dialogues in Latin by Francisco Cervantes Salazar; the book is most rare; Icazbalceta printed the original Latin text with a Spanish translation and added his usual valuable notes. The other book, chiefly composed of religious dramas for popular representation, was by Fernan Gonzales de Eslava, who was by no means a mean poet. In reprinting this curious sixteenth century book Icazbalceta practically traced the whole history of the religious play in Mexico of the past. No Mexican bibliographer has done more important work than Icazbalceta. Two works in this line need special mention. His Apuntes para un Catalogo de Escritores en lenguas indigenas de America (Notes for a Catalogue of Writers in the Native Languages of America) is not only interesting in itself, but has been the necessary foundation for everything since written regarding Mexican languages. As for his Bibliografía Mexicana del siglo xvi. (Mexican Bibliography of the Sixteenth Century), it is a wonderful work, representing forty years of labor. “It is a systematic catalogue of books printed in Mexico in the years between 1539 and 1600, with biographies of authors and various illustrations, facsimiles of ancient title pages, extracts from rare books, bibliographic notes, etc., etc.” It is far more—it is really a restoration of the life of that wonderful age in American letters. In biography our author is eminently happy; he usually loves and reverences his subject. In 1881 he published his Don Fray Juan de Zumárraga, Primer Obispo y Arzobispo de México (Friar Juan de Zumarraga, first bishop and archbishop of Mexico). It is a magnificent example of such work. Another subject of his love was Alegre, and besides a biography of him he wrote—1889—Opusculos ineditos Latinos y Castellanos de Francisco Javier Alegre (The Unpublished Works, Latin and Spanish, of Francisco Javier Alegre). Icazbalceta’s last great work was Diccionario de Provincialismos Mexicanos (Dictionary of Mexican Provincialisms). This was passing through the press at the time of his death, November 26, 1894. Many of Icazbalceta’s choicest writings were monographs of no great length prepared for reading before the Mexican Academy or other organizations of which he was a member. These always show the same careful gathering of facts, the same just criticism, and the same literary character as his greater works. Our selections—all but one—are from such a discourse read before the academy in June and July, 1882, entitled, El instruccion publica en México durante el siglo xvi. (Public Instruction in Mexico during the Sixteenth Century). The other is from a paper—Los Medicos de México en el siglo xvi. (The Physicians of Mexico in the Sixteenth Century). These passages will no doubt surprise many readers, who have been pleased to believe that Spain’s policy was to hold its conquered territories in deep ignorance. THE EARLY MISSIONARIES. When the first Spanish missionaries arrived, they faced that great mass of uncivilized folk, which it was necessary to convert and civilize in a single day. Today there exist an enormous number of establishments and private teachers for educating youth in classes, graded with relation to ages; there were then twelve men for millions of children and adults, who begged, in concert, for light, and light which it was impossible to deny them, because it was not merely a matter of human culture, which most important as it is, did not then occupy the first place; but of opening the eyes to blind heathen and of making them take the straight road for attaining the salvation of their souls. The matter then seemed serious; it was really still more so, because the new teachers had never heard the language of their pupils. But what may not devotion accomplish? Those venerable men quickly mastered the unknown language and then others and others as they met them; they understood, or rather they divined, the peculiar character of the population, and at once converted, instructed, and protected it. The first missionaries and those who followed after them, were certainly no common men; almost all were educated; many like Fathers Tecto, Gaona, Focher, Vera Cruz, and others had shone in professorships and prelacies; they were of noble birth, and three of them, Fathers Gante, Witte, and Daciano, felt royal blood coursing through their veins. All renounced the advantages promised by a brilliant career; all forgot their hard gained learning to devote themselves to the primary instruction of the poor and unprotected Indians. What inflated doctor, what betitled professor today would accept a primary school in an obscure village? The Franciscans went everywhere rearing temples to the true God, and with them schools for children. They gave to their principal convents a special plan; the church set from east to west and the school, with its dormitories and chapel at right angles to it, stretching to the north. The square of buildings was completed by the ample court, which served for teaching the Christian doctrine to adults, in the morning before work, and also for the sons of the macehuales or plebeians who came to receive religious instruction; the school building was reserved for the sons of nobles and lords; although this distinction was not rigidly observed. At first the friars found great difficulty in gathering together boys to fill these schools, because the Indians were not yet capable of understanding the importance of the new discipline and refused to give their boys to the monasteries. They had to appeal to the government that it should compel the lords and principal men to send their sons to the schools; first experiment in compulsory education. Many of the lords, not caring to give up their children, but not daring to disobey, adopted the expedient of sending, in place of their own sons, and as if they were these, other boys, sons of their servants or vassals. But in time, perceiving the advantage these plebeian boys, by education, were gaining over their masters, they sent their sons to the monasteries, and even insisted on their being admitted. The boys dwelt in the lodgings built for the purpose in connection with the schools, some so spacious as to suffice for eight hundred or a thousand. The friars devoted themselves by preference to the children, as being—from their youth—more docile and apt to learn, and found in them most useful helpers. Soon they employed them as teachers. The adults brought from their wards by their leaders, came to the patios and remained there during the hours set for instruction, after which they were free for their ordinary occupations. Divided into groups, one of the best instructed boys taught to each group the lesson learned from the missionary. {28} {29} {30} {31} {32} {33} PEDRO DE GANTE’S WORK. Although you know the fact well, gentlemen, you would not forgive me should I omit mentioning the work which the noted lay brother, Pedro de Gante, blood relative of the Emperor Charles V., did in the direction of instructing the Indians. He was not the founder of the College of San Juan de Letran, as is generally stated, but of the great school of San Francisco, in Mexico, which he directed during a half century. This was constructed, as was customary, behind the convent church, extending toward the north, and contiguous to the famous chapel of San José de Belem de Naturales—the first church of Mexico, the old cathedral included. There our lay brother brought together fully a thousand boys, to whom he imparted religious and civil instruction. Later he added the study of Latin, of music, and of singing, by which means he did a great service to the clergy, because from there went forth musicians and singers for all the churches. Not satisfied with this achievement, he brought together also adults, with whom he established an industrial school. He provided the churches with painted or sculptured figures; with embroidered ornaments, sometimes with designs interspersed of the feather work, in which the Indians were so distinguished; with crosses, with candlestick standards, and many other objects necessary for church service, no less than with workmen for the construction of the churches themselves, for he had in that school painters, sculptors, engravers, stonecutters, carpenters, embroiderers, tailors, shoemakers, and other trades workers. He attended to all and was master of all. The gigantic efforts of that immortal lay brother cause genuine admiration—who without other resources than his indomitable energy, born of his warm charity, reared from the foundations and sustained for so many years a magnificent church, a hospital and a great establishment, which was at once a primary school, a college of higher instruction and religious teaching, an academy of the fine arts, and a trades school, in fine a center of civilization. INSTRUCTION BY HIEROGLYPHS. Industrial schools, compulsory education, these seem to us usually modern ideas; but these old teachers knew something of object teaching, of adapting methods to varying conditions. Thus: They completed the instruction by the use of signs, and it may be imagined that the result was little or nothing. Desirous of hastening the instruction and realizing that what enters by the eye engraves itself more easily upon the mind, they devised the idea of painting the mysteries of religion upon a canvas. Friar Jacob de Tastera, a Frenchman, was the first, it seems, who tested this method. He did not know the language, but he showed the Indians the chart and caused one of the brighter among them...