William Eleroy Curtis

THE name of the capital of Brazil means “River of January,” and in the native tongue is pronounced Reeo-day-Hay-nay-ray-oh. When the ancient mariners who discovered the Brazilian coast passed through the narrow gate-way to the harbor, and saw the beautiful bay in the amphitheatre of mountains surrounded by eternal verdure, they supposed they were entering the mouth of a river that would lead them to the Enchanted Land; and when they found out their mistake they despised the place so much that they did not even have the good-nature to christen it after a saint, but marked it on their charts simply the river discovered in January.

The bay around which the city lies is famous for its beauty, and rivals that of Naples or the Golden Horn. The panorama is ever changing with the shifting clouds, and in this country everything is intense. Nowhere is the contrast between sunshine and shadow so strong, and the outlines of the clouds lie distinctly upon the landscape where their shadows fall, changing the tint of the foliage and flowers. The mountains, which furnish a noble background for the picture, are so steep, so rugged, and so high as to exaggerate the peace of the water, and furnish another striking contrast in their dark and frowning lines to the white buildings of the city and its countless towers. These mountains seem to enclose the town and the bay like a wall, and leave no passage in or out except at the entrance to the harbor, which is scarcely wide enough for two vessels to pass. Along their base lies the city, like a lazy white monster, sleeping under the shade of imperial palms in a garden of never-failing colors and eternal loveliness.

BAY OF RIO DE JANEIRO.

Viewed from the deck of a ship in the harbor, the city of Rio looks like a fragment of fairy-land—a cluster of alabaster castles decorated with vines; but the illusion is instantly dispelled upon landing, for the streets are narrow, damp, dirty, reeking with repulsive odors, and filled with vermin-covered beggars and wolfish-looking dogs. The whole town seems to be in a continual perspiration, and the atmosphere is so enervating that the stranger feels an almost irresistible tendency to lie down. There is now and then a lovely little spot where Nature has displayed her beauties unhindered, and the environs of the city are filled with the luxury of tropical vegetation; but there are only a few fine residences, a few pleasant promenades, and a few clusters of regal palms, which look down upon the filth and squalor of the town with dainty indifference. The palm is the peacock of trees. Nothing can degrade it, and the filth in which it often grows only serves to heighten its beauty. Behind some of the residences of the better classes are gardens in which grow flowers that baffle the painter’s skill, and foliage that is the ideal of luxuriance and gracefulness. They are little glimpses of green and gold in a desert of misery and dirt. A few years ago there was not even a sewer in Rio, and all the garbage and offal of the city was carried through the streets on the heads of men, and dumped into the sea. Now there are drains under the principal streets, but they seem to be of little use, as the main thoroughfares are abominable, and one wonders what the less pretentious ones may be. The pavements are of the roughest cobble-stone, the streets are so narrow that scarcely a breath of air can enter them, and the sunshine cannot reach the pools of filth that steam and fester in the gutters, breeding plagues.

A STREET IN RIO.

The city is in the shape of a narrow crescent, lying between the mountains and the bay, nowhere more than half a mile wide, and stretching for a distance of nine or ten miles. It can never be any wider, but grows at either end. The chief residence street lies along the edge of the water, but the business houses are crowded into the lower portion of the town, damp, gloomy, and dismal, the streets being so narrow that carriages are forbidden to enter them during the busy hours of the day. A fire that would burn out the older portion of the city would be a blessing, and might redeem Rio from some of its filth and ugliness.

THE CITY OF RIO FROM THE BAY.

The public buildings are quite as ugly and unpretentious as the commercial houses. The city palace of the Emperor fronts the market-place, in which donkeys and carts are unloaded daily, and where the fish-boats land. It is impregnated by the stench of decaying vegetation, and has an ancient and fish-like smell. The structure looks more like a warehouse than the shelter of imperial power, and Dom Pedro will not live in it. He has two beautiful palaces in the country, in which he resides, and only comes to the city palace on occasions of public importance. The only presentable Government buildings are the post-office and printing-house, and many of the private residences are superior in every respect to anything the Government owns. The building in which Congress sits is a gloomy old pile, without a single redeeming feature, and a great empire like Brazil ought to be ashamed to house its Parliament in such a place.

The Rue Dineta is the Wall Street of Rio de Janeiro, and during the morning hours, while the Coffee Exchange is open, presents quite an animated appearance. Brokers and commission men, merchants, planters, agents of transportation lines, speculators, men of all ages and nationalities, assemble there to trade and gamble; and one can hear a dozen different languages in half as many groups. Most of the speculation is done in coffee, and in the buying and selling of exchange on London.

Nothing in Rio strikes an American as more singular than the nomenclature of the streets. Many of them, such as the “Seventh of September” and the “First of March,” are named after days on which something (no one seems to know exactly what) has taken place. There is one thoroughfare called the “Street of Good Jesus,” and the names of the saints are freely used. It seems a trifle queer to be directed to “No. 20 First of March Street,” or for a man to live at the corner of “St. John the Baptist and St. John the Evangelist Streets,” but the Brazilians do not mind it.

The principal street in Rio is the celebrated Rua do Ouvidor. It is a narrow little alley-way, in which two carriages could not pass each other. In fact I never saw a carriage in

the street, and doubt if a driver would be bold enough to venture there. Here are the shops of the principal merchants, and the gorgeous stores of the artificers of feather flowers, and the dealers in gold and silver and precious stones. The street, from one end to the other, is filled at night with people, not on the narrow sidewalks only, but completely filling the thoroughfare from wall to wall. Officers of the army and navy, and soldiers and sailors, all in uniform, mingle with the crowd, and flash their gold lace in the bright light that floods the street. Everywhere, too, are the elaborate mulatto gendarmes, the police of the city. From the cafÉs chantants come the sounds of music and the clinking of glasses. At little tables in the cafÉs the Brazilians sit, drinking strong coffee or other beverages, talking, gesticulating, and never for a moment completely at rest. Catching a weasel asleep is easy compared with that of catching a Brazilian when some portion of his body is not in motion. This is owing to the amount of strong black coffee they drink. A Brazilian proverb says that coffee, to be good, must be “black as night, as bitter as death, and hot as sheol.”

The total abstinence cause has few if any supporters in Brazil. Everybody drinks—men, women, and children. The police records show that men do get drunk here, but they are very seldom seen. The laboring classes drink a vile beverage called casasch, which is made of the juice of the sugar-cane in the regular distillery fashion. But moderate as the Brazilians are in the use of liquors, they are decidedly immoderate in the use of coffee. It is coffee the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night, coffee at meals and coffee between meals, and all of it made according to the proverb.

Rio is a succession of disappointments. The only really pretty place is the Botanical Garden, which serves to illustrate what the whole city might be with the exercise of a little taste and the expenditure of a trifling sum of money. Here are colonnades of palms which surpass anything on the globe, and which are worth a journey to Brazil to see. Here are all the plants and trees that the country produces, and no land is so rich in vegetation as Brazil. Flowers of the most gorgeous hues, orchids that are wonders of color, and a representation of the virgin forests of the Amazon, a tangled mass of wild, luxuriant vegetation, full of birds of the most brilliant plumage, bugs that look like animated gems, and flowers of scarlet, purple, and yellow, that make the forest appear as if it were ablaze. Every color is intense.

There are no delicate tints and no gentle hues. The flowers have no perfume, and the birds no songs. The whole country seems to be painted yellow and red.

Strangers always visit the fish-market, where all sorts of shiny creatures are to be found, most of them peculiar to the waters of Brazil. The whole business is conducted by auction, and the fish are sold by the basket to the highest-bidder men, who have retail places throughout the city, or who peddle them in the streets. All varieties of food are peddled about the town, and the venders attract attention by clapping pieces of wood together and uttering peculiar cries. There are drinking-booths along the street at which all sorts of beverages can be obtained, from goats’ milk to brandy, and casasch is sold by the bucketful. There are plenty of street-car lines, and all the population ride. The cars are always crowded, and everybody reads a morning paper as he goes down-town, and an evening paper on his way home.

Foreigners are generally puzzled to know why the horse-cars in Rio are called “bonds.” It happened in this way: When the first horse railroad was built in Rio bonds were issued to pay for it. There was a great talk about these bonds, and the uneducated were at a loss to know what the English word meant. When they saw the first car they thought they had found a solution of the question, and all exclaimed, “There is one of those much-talked-of bonds.” So all over Brazil a horse-car is a “bond” to this day.

It is noticed that every ox-cart in Brazil creaks with the most soul-reaching sounds. I asked a cartman why he did not grease its wheels. He replied that the creaking stimulated the animals, and they would not work without it.

Humming-birds are plenty as flies about Rio, and the natives call them be aflores (kiss flowers). At night the air is full of myriads of fire-flies that look like a shower of stars. To one who makes a tour of South America before going to Brazil, it seems as if all of the homely women on the continent had emigrated there, for pretty ones are extremely scarce. Their complexions are sallow, and they all have a bilious look. Another oddity is that the women are invariably fat and the men are invariably lean. Their complexions are ruined by the climate, and the lives of indolence they lead give them a tendency to obesity, which is augmented by the excessive use of sweetmeats. The women are munching confectionery from morning till night, and scarcely eat anything else, and their time is divided between dozing in a

rocking-chair or peeking through the blinds to see the people on the streets. One can ride about Rio all day without seeing a Brazilian lady, and the only glimpse a man ever gets of them is during the evenings at the cafÉs or at the playhouses, unless he gets out early in the morning and sees them on the way to mass.

At six o’clock every morning the streets are full of women on their way to church, at seven o’clock they are on their way to their homes, and at half-past seven there is not one to be seen. In the evening, when the gas is lighted, they pour from the houses into the streets, the parks, the ice-cream booths, and the theatres. There they appear in their Paris finery, overloaded with jewellery, munching candy, nibbling ices, and gossiping.

Next to her complexion, the ugliest thing about a Brazilian woman is her voice. It sounds as if the parrots had taught her to speak, and when you hear it behind the blinds, as one often does, it is always a matter of doubt whether “Polly” or her mistress is talking. But the Brazilians do not call their parrots Polly, as we do. The common name is “Loreta.”

A Brazilian woman never goes shopping. Servants are sent for samples; and if it is a bonnet the seÑorita wants to buy, a box or basket containing all the latest Parisian styles is sent up for her inspection. Most of the purchasing is done in this way, and a woman is seldom seen in a shop. But in all of these remarks the negroes are excepted. The streets swarm day and night with gorgeously dressed Dinahs, wearing turbans that would shame a passion-flower for color, and usually yellow or red gowns. They chatter like magpies, and seldom seem to be going anywhere or to have any object in life beyond gossiping with the friends they meet.

More attention is now paid to female education in Brazil than formerly. At one time it was only necessary for a seÑorita to know how to read her prayer-book and to embroider, but of late seminaries for females have been established, and the nuns compelled to enlarge the curriculum of convent study. The Brazilian woman is now beginning to receive the respect that modern civilization demands for her, and is no longer kept as a plaything for man. She is intelligent, learns readily, and has considerable wit, but never reads anything except the fashion papers and translations of French novels. A bookseller told me that the demand for the last named was increasing largely, and that where he sold only one ten years ago he sells a hundred nowadays. Education in music and the lighter arts is also becoming popular, as the increased sales in music and painting and drawing materials show. The Brazilian woman has always been famous for her embroidery, and her house is full of the most beautiful work, the doing of which she has learned from the nuns.

In Rio social restrictions are being removed, the two sexes are allowed to mingle with greater freedom than formerly, and society is beginning to assume a new phase. Occasionally grand balls are given, and within the last few years the natives have acquired the habit of occasionally visiting one another’s houses socially with their wives—something that was unknown a few years ago. The etiquette of modern society was reversed in Brazil not many years ago. If a man bowed to a female acquaintance, or addressed her, except in the presence of her husband, father, or brother, it was considered an insult, to be punished with a blow, but now it is considered entirely proper for ladies and gentlemen to converse together. There remains, however, the old system of formal calling or exchanging visits. Ladies never go out alone to call on their friends, and no gentleman will be received at a house when the husband or father is absent.

The theatres of Rio are numerous and well attended, but are neither handsome nor well arranged. There are French, Spanish, and Portuguese performances, and during the winter season an Italian opera two or three times a week, which is liberally patronized by the upper classes. The performances at the opera as well as at the theatres are considered only an adjunct to social conversation, however, and because of the talking going on around him during the play, one can scarcely hear what is said by the performers. Connected with every theatre is a garden and cafÉ, and between the acts the people repair to these places. Ice-cream and all sorts of beverages are served, and confectionery of course. They have recently built the great Theatre Dom Pedro Segundo, larger than La Scala or San Carlo, and said to have a seating capacity of eleven thousand. In building this theatre the matter of size has rather been overdone, for a large portion of the audience is unable to hear the opera. The Emperor has two boxes in the opera-house—one a small private box, and one a great and gorgeous box of state. When the venerable gentleman is out spending the evening somewhere, and wishes to visit the opera quietly for a moment, he goes into his private box, and sits there without causing unusual attention; but when he goes in state he occupies the large box. Then he dashes up to the theatre with his guards, equerries, and gentlemen-in-waiting. As he enters the box the orchestra strikes up the stirring imperial hymn, the people rise, and shout, “Viva Dom Pedro Segundo!” the Emperor bows, smiles, takes his seat, and the opera proceeds.

The hotels in Brazil are very bad. There are two or three small ones, which furnish tolerably good rooms and good living, but they are usually crowded, and a stranger coming to the city finds it difficult to procure rooms. The city might support a very fine hotel, such as is found in Montevideo and Santiago, but at present there is nothing to compare with the accommodations found in those cities. Rio is about as badly off for hotels as any city in the world. The meats and fish served are usually of a poor quality, but the fruits are excellent. There is no such fruit to be found anywhere, either for variety or for deliciousness of flavor, and the wines are usually good. Good wine can always be procured throughout Spanish America. If a Spaniard were limited to a crumb of bread and a drop of water per day, he would always expect a bottle of wine to go with it. The strawberries and grapes of Brazil are unusually fine, and are grown the whole year round. The peaches are also very good; but the principal fruits are bananas, oranges, pineapples, chirimoyas, sapotes, and some other things that we do not find in temperate climates.

So far it has been found impossible to raise good cattle in Brazil, although the province of Rio Grande de Sul, being the most southerly, has a cooler temperature, and ranchmen have been utilizing the ranches to be found in the interior on the border of Uruguay. Cattle-breeding is chiefly in the hands of the natives, and the horses come over the Uruguay border. The stock cattle sell for from five to six dollars a head, while fat cattle are worth about twelve dollars. The larger amount of the beef and mutton supply of Rio de Janeiro comes by steamer from the Argentine Republic.

The native dishes are peculiar, and are not palatable to those who do not care for an unlimited amount of garlic. In fact, a stranger going into the interior cannot find anything to eat but boiled eggs, for these are the only articles the native Brazilian cook cannot spoil. Grease and garlic do not penetrate the shells; but even eggs are unreliable, for the natives seem to have no idea of any difference in them, and use them in all conditions of age, and often in the transition stage of being.

Among the important articles used for the table is jerked beef. Immense quantities of it are imported from the Argentine Republic and Uruguay, and it is shipped here by the ton. It is said that thirty thousand tons of it are annually imported into Brazil, and it furnishes the staple food for the slaves on the plantations and the common people in the cities. Jerked beef and beans are always to be found on the table, and both mixed in a stew with plenty of garlic compose the omnipresent national dish. Bacalao, or codfish, is considered a great delicacy, and about seventy-five thousand tubs are annually imported from Nova Scotia and the United States. The people in Brazil are so fond of it that they will use it at any time in preference to the fresh fish of their own waters; but the Yankee would not recognize either the codfish or the beans in this country, mixed up as they usually are in an olla podrida of yam, cabbage, and garlic.

The foreign commerce of Brazil is in the hands of the English, and the retail commerce in the hands of the French and German. In fact, nearly nine-tenths of the commercial community of Rio de Janeiro is composed of foreigners. There are very few Americans there, however, and that is one reason why our trade with that country is so small. The native Portuguese are usually the land-owners, the planters, and professional men; and there is a very large body of officials, composed to a great extent of the decayed aristocracy.

At all the public gatherings in Rio these people appear in uniforms or court dresses, decorated with stars and crosses so numerously and inappropriately bestowed as to border on the ridiculous. Many boys, apparently not more than fourteen or fifteen years of age, can be seen at these gatherings, wearing tawdry silk and velvet dresses, and stars which have been obtained by inheritance or by purchase. There used to be a custom under which patents of nobility, with stars and crosses, and “the insignia of the order of Christ,” which was the highest decoration, could be obtained by purchase, and the rage for these decorations attained a greater height in Brazil probably than in any other country. At one time almost every petty shopkeeper in the empire might be seen on the streets on holidays with a “habito de Christo” on his breast. These purchased honors were worn by the dignitaries of the Church as well as by civilians of all degrees, and being handed down from the generation that lived when such

things could be procured by purchase, still exist in great numbers among the people of the country. In the present generation the decorations of the empire are given to those only who have performed some service for the State, and cannot be secured by purchase.

The prevailing costume of the people in the country is just as it was a hundred years ago. They wear broad-brimmed hats with low crowns, tied with a ribbon under the chin; velveteen jackets, and waistcoats of gay colors, with metal buttons; linen or cotton drawers; high black gaiters buttoning up to the knee, and a sort of mantle similar to that used in Portugal, generally lined with red, thrown negligently over the shoulders; but on the sea-coast people dress in the European style. In Rio there is a great deal of rivalry in toilets among the ladies. As in other cities of South America, the gentlemen usually dress in broadcloth suits, patent-leather boots, and black silk hats, or in white duck or linen.

The school system is very meagre, but is improving. There are in the empire 2000 public schools for a population of 12,000,000 people, and the State expends annually $8,000,000 for public instruction. During the last few years, at nearly every session of Parliament, the Government introduced a compulsory education bill; but the bill has never become a law. The upper classes have an inclination for education; but nothing is ever done by the Government towards educating the slaves. The little learning which they acquire is received from the priests.

There are several institutions for higher education, several schools of medicine, of law, civil engineering, and mining; a normal school for the education of teachers, a conservatory of music, a school of fine arts, an institute for the blind, and another for the deaf and dumb, several reformatory schools, and an Imperial Industrial School founded by Dom Pedro upon the plan of the Cooper Institute of New York, the suggestion for it having been derived from his visit to that place while in the United States. There is also a bureau of colonization and immigration in the Department of Agriculture, and as an inducement to settlers, the Government offers them free subsistence and shelter at the boarding-house in Rio de Janeiro during the time that it is necessary for them to wait, as well as free transportation for themselves and baggage from Rio to any part of the country. They can purchase land on credit, the first payment to be made at the end of the second year, and four payments during the succeeding four years, and for cash they receive a discount of twenty per cent. For the first season the Agricultural Department gives them a donation of necessary implements and seeds, and an allowance of twenty-five cents a day for each adult, and ten cents for each child, during the first six months after settlement, until the land they occupy can be made to produce. The cost of the land is now from eight to sixteen dollars an acre. There are under the care of the Department of Agriculture twelve colonies, comprising a population of sixty-two thousand people, mostly German. The number of immigrants arriving in the country amounts to from forty to fifty thousand a year.

The immense area of Brazil, stretching as it does from 4° 30´ north to 33° south latitude, and from the thirty-fifth to the seventy-third degree of west longitude, affords almost as great a variety of climate and soil as can be found in the United States, and the two countries are of very nearly the same area. A glance at the map will show the extensive fluvial system of Brazil. The many large rivers that traverse the interior in all directions are navigable, and afford unequalled facilities for commerce.

Independent of the agricultural resources which the climate, situation, and productiveness of the soil afford, the mineral treasures which nature has stored in the interior are very abundant. Gold, together with diamonds and various other precious stones, is found in many localities, and the resources of the interior of the country, which has never been explored, are only a subject of speculation. The population now consists of about twelve million people; and it has not increased any during the last twenty-five years. Of this population there are about two million slaves and five hundred thousand Indians; but neither the moral character, social habits, nor intellectual attainments of this class afford material of value wherewith to build up an enlightened and progressive government. The natives are neither enterprising, thrifty, nor industrious. The system of slavery has taught them idleness, and the fact that they have gained their living without work has taught them habits of extravagance. There are a few men of wealth among them who have earned by their own efforts the money which they have, but nearly all have either inherited it or secured it as the result of slave labor. Brazil will never be a great or prosperous country until its population is increased by immigration.

Considerable progress has been made, and great interest taken, in railroad development. There are now about 2500 miles in operation, 800 of which are owned and operated by the Government, and 1700 by private corporations. In addition to this, about 1400 miles are under construction, and there are many prospective enterprises. The Government guarantees an annual income of seven per cent. upon the construction bonds of all railroads, and has so far paid this guarantee promptly. Recently a loan of thirty-four million dollars has been made in London for the construction of additional railways, and this is also secured by the Government. The rails are all imported from England, but a part of the rolling stock is brought from the United States. The roads are surveyed

and built by Brazilian engineers, but the principal machinists and locomotive drivers are Scotchmen. The principal railroad in Brazil is the one named in honor of the present Emperor, Dom Pedro II., and it is familiarly known as the “Pedro Segundo” road. This line runs from Rio Janeiro to the most important towns, and through a country which produces coffee, corn, and cattle. There are now about 500 miles of track in operation. It is a favorite route for tourists, and affords a view of the finest mountain scenery in the empire.

The prevailing opinion among the practical men of Brazil is that Dom Pedro II. is a lovable old humbug. Everybody regards the Emperor with a feeling of reverence, and his character and motives are universally respected; but he leaves the cares of State entirely to the direction of his ministers and his half-brother, the Baron de Capanema, who has more influence with the Cabinet than the Emperor himself. The old man is wrapped up in philanthropic movements, and is

constantly engaged in doing something for the amelioration of his fellow-men; but he is so easily imposed upon, and his ideas are so impracticable, that not only are his efforts wasted, but a large amount of money with which a great deal of good might be accomplished is expended upon chimerical projects; and the only result is the gratification that the Emperor enjoys in performing what he considers to be a duty. He is credulous, ingenuous, and trustful, and no matter what the reputation of the men who come to him with schemes is, he never fails to be interested in anything that will tend to the improvement or welfare of his people. He devotes almost his entire time to entertaining impostors and developing schemes that are suggested to him by the people who take advantage of his philanthropic disposition to accomplish their own ends.

A little beyond the city of Petropolis is the imperial hacienda, which is known as Santa Cruz. Here Dom Pedro II. used to live, but his first-born and only son died in the palace, and since that time, which was many years ago, neither he nor the Empress has ever entered its walls. Some twenty years ago he devoted this hacienda, as he does almost everything else, to philanthropy, and attempted a grand philanthropic experiment which has demonstrated nothing but the Emperor’s own lack of ability as a manager.

The Princess of Brazil has three children, two sons and a daughter; and besides these the Emperor has three other grandchildren, orphans of a deceased daughter, who live with their grandparents and are a great source of comfort to the Emperor, who is very fond of children.

The Empress is a woman of rare traits, being noted for her womanliness, her charity, and her lovely character; and those who became acquainted with her while she was in the United States will remember her with the greatest affection. There is nowhere in the world a couple more devoted to each other, or with a kindlier disposition towards their fellow-creatures, or having a more earnest desire to accomplish something for the good of mankind, than Dom Pedro and the Empress. She is much more practical in her charity than he, and it is said that she frequently chides the Emperor for being so easily humbugged. The Empress is a fine-looking old lady, with white hair and a kindly face. She has not the force

and energy of her daughter, but is of a more retiring disposition, and prefers to interest herself in the affairs of the household rather than in matters of State. Every week or so the Emperor gives a reception, which is attended by all the nobility and by such strangers of sufficient dignity to receive royal attention as happen to be in the country. The Emperor is particularly fond of Americans, and he considers the United States the model country of the world. He has introduced into Brazil a great many ideas that he received during his visit to this country, and has organized an Agricultural Department and a Geological Survey, and several other branches of the Government, in imitation of what he found in the United States.

The Emperor had a great friend in Dr. Gunning, who left a high place in the medical college in Edinburgh about twenty years ago, and came to Brazil for his health. He had an ample fortune, and determined to devote his time and money to the abolition of slavery. With this object in view he bought thirty-five or forty slaves and a tract of land. The negroes for miles around him were earning large wages for their owners, but the doctor had a theory that they would pay for themselves, and buy their own emancipation, if they had an opportunity. So he commenced a system of bookkeeping, charging each slave with his original cost and the expense of his maintenance, and crediting him with the amount of labor he performed. When the accounts balanced, the slave was to be set free. But they never balanced.

Dr. Gunning impressed the Emperor with the great benefits of this system, and succeeded in inducing him to adopt it on his plantation. But the negroes are not fools. They understand very well that they are better off with such masters as Dr. Gunning and the Emperor than they would be in the condition of freedom, and they work so unprofitably, and make the expenses of their maintenance so great, that they never yet made enough in any one year to pay for their keeping.

The Emperor spends most of his time at Petropolis, and the only thing that can induce him to visit the city of Rio is a debate in Congress on the slavery question. It is nearly four centuries since Brazil was discovered, and it has always been governed by the same family. This part of the continent was given to the Portuguese by the Pope. When they began to quarrel with the Spaniards over the possession of the discoveries in America, the Pope drew a line along the sixty-fifth parallel of longitude and decided that the Portuguese should have all that part of the world lying east, and the Spaniards all that part lying west of it. Therefore Brazil became a viceroyalty of Portugal, and remained so until 1807, when the two countries changed relations, Brazil becoming the seat of government and Portugal becoming a colony. Portugal temporized with Napoleon, and when he made a raid upon that nation the royal family of Briganza took a step which astonished all Europe. In order to save the nation from the bloodshed and devastation that followed Napoleon’s avarice, Dom Joao fled from Lisbon to Rio, and left Napoleon in peaceable possession of Portugal.

For many years Joao preferred to remain in Rio de Janeiro, and govern his subjects with delegated power. Finally, Napoleon having vanished from the face of Europe, the Emperor returned to Lisbon, leaving his son, Dom Pedro I., upon the throne of Brazil; but the people were ill satisfied with this, and a bloodless revolution soon after occurred, in which Dom Pedro I. was compelled to abdicate, and in 1831 he fled to Portugal, leaving his son, Dom Pedro II., then a boy of fifteen, as Emperor, who governed through a regency until he became of age. His authority has been recognized in Brazil ever since, and he is loved by the people as few monarchs have ever been.

The Emperor’s power is limited, and is infinitely less than that of any of the Presidents of the South American republics. He has the right to veto acts of the national legislature, but it requires only a majority vote to override it, so that it practically amounts to nothing. The senators are elected for life, are endowed with titles, and their duties are similar to those of the peers of Great Britain. The Emperor receives from the State an income of four hundred thousand dollars per annum, but he is a poor economist, and spends it all, the greater part in mistaken charity.

There is a small party called Republican, which proposes to unseat the Emperor, do away with all the titles and all insignia of royalty and nobility, and to take, as the rest of the South Americans have done, “the great republic of the north” for its example. In theory they are for upsetting the throne and tumbling the Emperor off, but they recognize his goodness and benevolence, and have the wisdom to see that they are a great deal better off under the administration of such a man than under a President who would be an autocrat. When the Emperor dies Brazil will become a republic. The Liberal party believe in republican principles; and the ideas of civil and religious liberty have so permeated the people, from the nobles to the slaves, that it will be impossible to continue the empire under the daughter of Dom Pedro when she comes to inherit the throne.

The Emperor had but one son, and his only living child is the Princess Isabella, wife of the Count D’Eu, a grandson of Louis Philippe, a cousin of the Count of Paris, and a Prince of the House of Orleans. This French husband of the Brazilian princess is said to be an uncommonly good fellow, and a man of considerable ability. He holds the rank of major-general in the army, and is an aide-de-camp, or grand marshall, under the Emperor. The princess and her husband live in the city of Rio de Janeiro in a very ordinary way, the palace they occupy and their style of living being a great deal inferior to that of many merchants and foreign residents of the country. They have a plantation near Petropolis, and spend the unhealthy seasons of the year at that place.

The princess is now about thirty-five or forty years of age, and takes a great deal more interest in the affairs of State than her distinguished father. She is far from being good-looking, and is rather masculine in disposition. She has intelligence and firmness, and is often compared to Queen Elizabeth. During the absence of the Emperor in the United States and Europe in 1876 and 1877, she assumed his authority, and upset matters so generally that she brought on a revolution that would have overturned the empire entirely had it not been suppressed in time.

In dealing with this outbreak she showed an ability and determination that gave her a great reputation among political leaders; but the condition of Brazil is changing so rapidly that by the time the princess comes to the throne by the death of her father, the Liberal element will be so large and powerful that they will prevent her from assuming authority. If her character and disposition were other than they are she might be tolerated on the throne; but their experience with her during her father’s absence has taught the people that she is not such a ruler as they want, and the contrast between her rigorous rule and the political indifference of the Emperor is so great as to aggravate the dislike of the people for her. In addition to this, the princess is a great Church-woman, and attends mass every morning in her house, spends a great deal of time in religious devotion, supports a large retinue of priests and friars, who are said to be the only people who have any influence with her, and does a great deal to strengthen the Catholic Church in Brazil.

The Emperor does not seem to know of the unpopularity of his daughter. He does not seem to be aware that she possesses traits and a disposition in striking contrast with his own. With that generous charity with which he regards all human beings, he believes that she is as liberal-minded and as philanthropic as himself, and his dreams are never disturbed by any thought of what may occur after his death.

As everywhere else in South America, the Liberal element in Brazil has been making an active war against the Roman Catholic Church, and as long ago as 1870 a law was passed abolishing monastic institutions in the empire; but that legislation was more liberal than that passed and carried out in other South American countries, for it gave the religious orders ten years in which to dispose of their property and close up their affairs. This period expired in 1880, and very little has been done by the monks and nuns towards complying with the law. In 1881 an attempt was made to forcibly close their institutions, but an appeal was made to the courts, and it was only recently that a decision was rendered sustaining the constitutionality of the act of Congress and imposing a tax upon all real estate owned by the religious orders, and proceedings were commenced to confiscate and sell their property for the non-payment of taxes.

The religious orders refused to recognize the right of the civil power to dispose of their property. They claim that the Pope alone has authority over it; and their writers fill the papers with thrilling accounts of what terrible visitations have fallen upon all those who have taken the property of the Church, or in any way acquired real estate which once belonged to it, in other lands.

It may be said, however, that the general public takes very little interest in the dispute. There is no affection or respect felt for the monastic orders, which are in a condition of

decay, and their approaching extinction by the death of the few monks and nuns remaining is viewed with indifference; but the clergy take a different view of the case. They expect to inherit the revenues derived from the Church property, and they do not want to see it pass into the hands of private parties. Until ten or twelve years ago the political leaders encouraged the superstitious observances of the Church in order to secure the loyalty of the priesthood, but the growth of Liberal sentiment has been so great that the Church has been robbed of the terror it formerly inspired and of the influence which it possessed, and there has been much encouragement given to Protestants who have come into the country and engaged in missionary work.

One of the great holidays in Brazil is the feast of St. George, the patron of the empire. Each city and province has a sort of deputy patron, whose worship is duly celebrated on a particular day. Saint Sebastian has charge of the city of Rio de Janeiro, and in his honor a celebration is held once a year; but when the annual feast of St. George returns, every town and village from the northern to the southern boundary of the country has the grandest procession and demonstration of the season. This is not the same St. George who is supposed to have formerly had England under his protection, but an entirely different individual. Formerly this saint held the rank of colonel in the army, and was entitled to a yearly pay of thirty-five thousand dollars, which the priests drew for him and pretended to invest in jewels and dresses. A few years ago he used to be taken through the streets on horseback on his anniversary day, surrounded by a bodyguard—a regiment composed of the greatest swells of Rio de Janeiro, who acknowledged him as their commander, and were known as the “Imperial Order of St. George.” An old resident told me about an instance that occurred some years ago, when the attendant who had charge of the image buckled Colonel St. George’s sword on so carelessly that it dropped from his belt and wounded a priest. The aide-de-camp and the saint were both tried for the offence, and both found guilty. The officer was punished with imprisonment, and the saint fined a large portion of his salary.

The anniversary of Corpus Christi is always celebrated with great pomp in Rio, and with a procession which marches through the principal streets. At its head is usually carried an effigy of the Saviour, preceded by bands of singing priests and bearers of incense, and covered with a canopy carried by the Emperor and the Count D’Eu, his son-in-law, and the principal ministers of state. The participation of the

Emperor in this ceremony has existed from time immemorial, and is supposed to illustrate the obedience of the civil to the ecclesiastical power; but Dom Pedro hates the nonsense, and last year he declined to participate.

The money used in Brazil is liable to give a stranger the nightmare. Imagine yourself presented with a bill for thirty thousand reis after eating a dinner and drinking a bottle of wine at a cafÉ. One is apt to indulge in some expressions of astonishment, even if he is too honest to attempt an escape by the back door. But composure is restored when it is discovered that a “reis” is worth only the twentieth part of a cent, and at the present discount of Brazilian money such a bill amounts only to about seven dollars.

The book-keepers of Brazil have a hard time of it, however, as the reis is the standard value, and the long lines of figures which represent the commercial transactions of the ordinary mercantile or banking house each day are a severe tax upon the mathematical accuracy and ability of the people. For example, $1,000,000 equals about 4,000,000,000 reis, and the paper currency of Brazil represents 488,000,000,000 reis. The commercial statistics of Brazil look very formidable; but the people simplify matters somewhat by using the term millreis, which means a thousand reis.

The currency of the country consists of irredeemable paper shinplasters, the smallest denomination being five hundred reis, which is equal to about thirteen cents in gold. Nickel and copper coins are used for change below that sum, the reis being a very minute disk of copper. There is no gold or silver in circulation; and as the balance of trade has been largely against Brazil of recent years, there is not coin enough in the country to pay the interest on the public debt, and the bondholders are given bills on London.

There is no wharfage at any of the Brazilian ports; vessels are compelled to anchor out in the harbors, which are usually good, and be loaded and unloaded by means of lighters. Passengers are carried to and fro in bongoes, managed by a noisy and naked boatman, who inspires alarm in the breast of the nervous passenger, who imagines this gang of savage-looking maniacs are cannibals howling for his blood. The wardrobe of a bongo usually consists of a dilapidated straw hat and a pair of cotton drawers amputated at the thighs. These drawers are a degree farther from decency than the bathing-trunks small boys wear at the sea-side. The bongoes are shrewd fellows, and make bargains easily, but are hard to settle with when the work is done. They agree to take you and your trunk ashore for a dollar, but when you reach the custom-house they demand twice as much, with an additional dollar for Pippo, who helped carry the trunk down the gangway. People who remain on the vessel amuse themselves by throwing small coins into the water for the boatmen to dive after. If you toss a silver quarter overboard, a dozen or more will plunge after it, and one of them will have it in his mouth before it reaches the bottom.

CARRYING COFFEE TO THE STEAMER.