Roman Catholicism in Spain

by Anonymous

Purgatory in Spain, and in all Roman Catholic countries, is a dogma as sacred as that of the Incarnation and that of the Trinity, with this difference,—that the latter mysteries, and all those relative to the Saviour, place man in a position of immense inferiority with respect to their object, whilst purgatory, on the contrary, gives him an effective power, the object of which is nothing less than the salvation of souls. It is scarcely possible to conceive that to a being so weak as man could ever be attributed a power equal to that of Divinity itself. This creature, man, whom we see occupied in his business or his diversions, impregnated with profane ideas, and perhaps on the very point of

committing crime, or of abandoning himself to criminal excesses, is supposed to be capable, even in these very acts, to open the gates of heaven to the soul of a relative or of a friend, and this, too, without any effort of his conscience or his will, but simply by taking out a piece of money from a purse, laying it on the plate of the sanctuary, or saying a paternoster.

Many and various are the methods which have been invented “to draw out souls from purgatory.” The principal of these is “the mass of the dead;” and it constitutes one of the most lucrative sources from which the Roman Catholic clergy derive their revenues. As a general rule, when a testator makes his will, he bequeathes a certain sum of money to be laid out in masses, which are to be said as suffrages for his soul. These sums are sometimes more than sufficient to pay for a thousand, or even two thousand, masses. The relatives or friends pay for other masses for the same object, and many devout persons contribute large sums to draw out, indiscriminately, those souls which are most ready to avail themselves of such generosity. In all acts of devotion, including the daily and common mass, a prayer is introduced in favour of departed souls; and in order to exalt the imaginations of the faithful, by means of external representations, which, as we have seen in preceding chapters, form the grand arm of Roman Catholicism, they present, in painting, or engraving, or in statuary, figures of human beings surrounded by flames, and extending the hands as if in the act of imploring the compassion of their friends. In truth, in order to see this there is no need to go to

Spain; for even in London, that great centre of civilization, and at a few paces from Temple-bar, some of these impious caricatures are exhibited for the edification of the English public.

On the day of All Souls (el dià de difuntos), in Spain, we find exhibited in the churches the most disgusting representations, such as human bones, skulls, and entire skeletons; the churches are kept in profound darkness; and nothing is omitted to inspire terror and move the hearts of the devout. In the middle of the church is placed a large table with a silver plate, two immense wax candles, lighted, and some of the figures just alluded to. A priest, seated by the table, is imploring, in the most pitiful language, the generosity of the attendants. “He who puts a half-dollar in this plate,” said the priest in one of the churches in Cadiz, “draws out a soul from purgatory.” An Andalusian, as great an epigrammatist and jester as are generally the natives of that agreeable province, on one of these occasions took out from his purse his half-dollar, and put it on the plate, saying that his intention was to rescue the soul of his father. At the end of a moment or two he asked the priest if the soul of his father was now drawn out of purgatory, and on being answered by the oracle in the affirmative, very quietly re-took possession of his coin, with this pungent observation, “Very well then, my father is not such a fool as to return to purgatory after having succeeded in entering heaven.” Ridiculous and irreverent as this incident may appear, it cannot be denied that the logic contained in it is irresistible.

In every parish in Spain there is a confraternity of souls (hermandad de animas), whose treasure is composed not only of the contributions of the faithful, but of vast properties and metallic recompenses called censos, which always, in fact, consist of available money. The pious legacies (mandas piadosas), which abound in all the provinces of Spain, form a capital of incalculable amount. They call mandas piadosas those rustic or urban securities which have been left by testators with the sole object of investing their products in masses to be said for the dead. The church receives these proceeds, and pays for the masses. It often occurs that the number of those masses is so immensely great that there is not a sufficient number of priests in the neighbourhood to discharge the duty of saying them; the incomes, therefore, received by the clergy accumulate, and are disposed of for other purposes. Thus the church becomes a debtor to purgatory for thousands of masses which, though paid for, remain unsaid. In these cases the clergy have recourse to the pope, and demand a bull called bulla de composicion, for which the datary at Rome exacts a considerable sum of money. In fact, this bull is to compress, by a science which appears very like that of chemistry, the virtue of four or five thousand masses unsaid into only one which is said; so that if four or five thousand or more souls ought to be drawn out by means of the like number of masses, one single mass alone, through the medium of the bull, produces this grand result; and by this homœopathic process the consciences of the debtors are pacified.

It may easily be imagined that these practices lead

to the greatest abuse. Before the suppression of the friars, the convents were the great depositaries of this species of treasure. The bishops, and even the government itself, have often desired to look into these accounts in order to see whether the will of the testator had been exactly complied with in the application of the funds to their intended purposes. But the prelates of the respective orders have always most tenaciously resisted any such encroachment on their faculties and jurisdiction. It is quite certain that the incomes from these mandas piadosas were frequently laid out in repairing convents, erecting new chapels, celebrating religious feasts, and purchasing rich ornaments, and other precious objects, for augmenting the splendour of the sacred rites and ceremonies. When, at the end of the year, the account came to be stated of this branch of the church’s industry, and there appeared to be a vast disproportion of masses said in comparison with the sums received, the procurador of the order in Rome solicited a bull of composition. The account was thus balanced, and every thing nicely adjusted.

Although, on every day in the year, the suffrages of all classes may be offered in favour of souls in purgatory, there are some days especially privileged and set apart in the calendar for the purpose, with this note affixed to them, dia de ánima (Soul-day), and on which the effect of the suffrage is supposed to be infallible; that is to say, that each devout person draws out as many souls from purgatory as pieces of money which he draws out of his purse to pay for the like number of masses, or other acts of devotion to be performed.

On those days, a large placard is erected at the church-doors, and bearing this inscription, “Hoy se saca ánima,” (To-day souls are drawn out). The churches are full of people, and the contributions of money are numerous and abundant.