She Said That A Young Man, A Great
Constitutionalist, Had Given It To Her Some Months Previous, And
Had Pressed Her Much To Read It, For That It Was One Of The Best
Books In The World.
I replied, that the author of it was an
emissary of Satan, and an enemy of Jesus Christ and
The souls of
mankind; that it was written with the sole aim of bringing all
religion into contempt, and that it inculcated the doctrine that
there was no future state, nor reward for the righteous nor
punishment for the wicked. She made no reply, but going into
another room, returned with her apron full of dry sticks and
brushwood, all which she piled upon the fire, and produced a bright
blaze. She then took the book from my hand and placed it upon the
flaming pile; then sitting down, took her rosary out of her pocket
and told her beads till the volume was consumed. This was an auto
da fe in the best sense of the word.
On the Monday and Tuesday I paid my usual visits to the fountain,
and likewise rode about the neighbourhood on a mule, for the
purpose of circulating tracts. I dropped a great many in the
favourite walks of the people of Evora, as I felt rather dubious of
their accepting them had I proffered them with my own hand,
whereas, should they be observed lying on the ground, I thought
that curiosity might cause them to be picked up and examined. I
likewise, on the Tuesday evening, paid a farewell visit to my
friend Azveto, as it was my intention to leave Evora on the
Thursday following and return to Lisbon; in which view I had
engaged a calash of a man who informed me that he had served as a
soldier in the grande armee of Napoleon, and been present in the
Russian campaign. He looked the very image of a drunkard. His
face was covered with carbuncles, and his breath impregnated with
the fumes of strong waters. He wished much to converse with me in
French, in the speaking of which language it seemed he prided
himself, but I refused, and told him to speak the language of the
country, or I would hold no discourse with him.
Wednesday was stormy, with occasional rain. On coming down, I
found that my friend from Palmella had departed: but several
contrabandistas had arrived from Spain. They were mostly fine
fellows, and unlike the two I had seen the preceding week, who were
of much lower degree, were chatty and communicative; they spoke
their native language, and no other, and seemed to hold the
Portuguese in great contempt. The magnificent tones of the Spanish
sounded to great advantage amidst the shrill squeaking dialect of
Portugal. I was soon in deep conversation with them, and was much
pleased to find that all of them could read. I presented the
eldest, a man of about fifty years of age, with a tract in Spanish.
He examined it for some time with great attention; he then rose
from his seat, and going into the middle of the apartment, began
reading it aloud, slowly and emphatically; his companions gathered
around him, and every now and then expressed their approbation of
what they heard.
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