discourse, he showed
me the books which he used for the instruction of the children; they
were spelling books, much of the same kind as those used in the village
schools in England. Upon my asking him whether it was his practice to
place the Scriptures in the hands of the children, he informed me that
long before they had acquired sufficient intelligence to understand them
they were removed by their parents, in order that they might assist in
the labours of the field, and that the parents in general were by no
means solicitous that their children should learn anything, as they
considered the time occupied in learning as so much squandered away.
He said, that though the schools were nominally supported by the
government, it was rarely that the schoolmasters could obtain their
salaries, on which account many had of late resigned their
employments. He told me that he had a copy of the New Testament in
his possession, which I desired to see, but on examining it I discovered
that it was only the epistles by Pereira, with copious notes. I asked him
whether he considered that there was harm in reading the Scriptures
without notes: he replied that there was certainly no harm in it, but that
simple people, without the help of notes, could derive but little benefit
from Scripture, as the greatest part would be unintelligible to them;
whereupon I shook hands with him, and on departing said that there
was no part of Scripture so difficult to understand as those very notes
which were intended to elucidate it, and that it would never have been
written if not calculated of itself to illume the minds of all classes of
mankind.
In a day or two I made an excursion to Mafra, distant about three
leagues from Cintra; the principal part of the way lay over steep hills,
somewhat dangerous for horses; however, I reached the place in safety.
Mafra is a large village in the neighbourhood of an immense building,
intended to serve as a convent and palace, and which is built somewhat
after the fashion of the Escurial. In this edifice exists the finest library
in Portugal, containing books on all sciences and in all languages, and
well suited to the size and grandeur of the edifice which contains it.
There were no monks, however, to take care of it, as in former times;
they had been driven forth, some to beg their bread, some to serve
under the banners of Don Carlos, in Spain, and many, as I was
informed, to prowl about as banditti. I found the place abandoned to
two or three menials, and exhibiting an aspect of solitude and
desolation truly appalling. Whilst I was viewing the cloisters, a fine
intelligent-looking lad came up and asked (I suppose in the hope of
obtaining a trifle) whether I would permit him to show me the village
church, which he informed me was well worth seeing; I said no, but
added, that it he would show me the village school I should feel much
obliged to him. He looked at me with astonishment, and assured me
that there was nothing to be seen at the school, which did not contain
more than half a dozen boys, and that he himself was one of the number.
On my telling him, however, that he should show me no other place, he
at length unwillingly attended me. On the way I learned from him that
the schoolmaster was one of the friars who had lately been expelled
from the convent, that he was a very learned man, and spoke French
and Greek. We passed a stone cross, and the boy bent his head and
crossed himself with much devotion. I mention this circumstance, as it
was the first instance of the kind which I had observed amongst the
Portuguese since my arrival. When near the house where the
schoolmaster resided, he pointed it out to me, and then hid himself
behind a wall, where he awaited my return.
On stepping over the threshold I was confronted by a short stout man,
between sixty and seventy years of age, dressed in a blue jerkin and
grey trousers, without shirt or waistcoat; he looked at me sternly, and
enquired in the French language what was my pleasure. I apologised
for intruding upon him, and stated that, being informed he occupied the
situation of schoolmaster, I had come to pay my respects to him and to
beg permission to ask a few questions respecting the seminary. He
answered that whoever told me he was a schoolmaster lied, for that he
was a friar of the convent and nothing else. "It is not then true," said I,
"that all the convents have been broken up and the monks dismissed?"
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