The Mexicans, in their oratory and writings, are still congratulating themselves upon their overthrow of the power of the Church, and of the other ancient tyrannies which were a bar to their progress as a modern nation. But the tendency—though growing less as time goes on—is to overrate this. They pride themselves on being "modern," and congratulate themselves on every occasion upon having destroyed past traditions. But it is easy, in wiping away the evils of the past with too vigorous a hand, to destroy at the same time much that is of good report. Mexico possesses traditions, religious influences, historical and literary associations which are of great value, and possessed by no other American community upon that continent. These can never be replaced by the plumed hat of the General and all that it conveys, nor by the freethinker, nor by the factory whistle and overalled mechanic, nor, indeed, by the elements of a strenuous commercialism generally. As time goes on and civil life broadens and develops this attitude will be moderated—it is but a phase of the country's history, and indeed a healthy one, to cry for progress and the modern spirit.
Much of this cry for modern things, as well as some other of the characteristics of the Spanish-American, comes from the desire to be considered highly civilised. This feeling, whether in Mexico or South America, gives birth at times to a certain feverish spirit of construction, and is responsible for the existence of railways, but no roads; electric light in streets without sewers, and pretentious-looking stucco buildings where solid stone should have been employed. Buenos Ayres, Lima, Santiago, Mexico—all bear witness to this tendency, in more or less degree. And under the garish electric arc at night, or silhouetted against the new white stucco wall of some costly hygienic institution, or art gallery, or Governor's palace, glaring in the bright sun, stands the incongruous figure of the half-naked and sandalled Indian, ignorant and poverty-stricken! These, indeed, are elements of Spanish-American civilisation which the philosopher sees and ponders upon. In fact, the character of the Latin races seems sometimes to tend to run off into ultra-scientific methods and institutions before the every-day welfare of its citizens is secured. Elaborate meteorological observations, great schools of medicine with costly apparatus, and great penitentiaries are to be found as prominent features in all Spanish-American capitals, where they have been inaugurated with much fanfare of oratory regarding civilisation. In Mexico, Lima, Buenos Ayres, and other great centres of Spanish-American life, the Penetenciaria is always a showplace, or notable institution to which visitors' attention is drawn. This, however, seems to be rather a development of modern American civilisation all through, and whether in New York—and indeed Canada—or whether in Mexico, Peru, Chile, or Argentina, greater care seems to be expended upon the welfare of the criminal than on the ordinary poor citizen!
| MEXICAN LIFE: THE CATHEDRAL AND THE PENITENTIARY, CITY OF PUEBLA. |
As previously observed, Mexican society falls into lines of marked class distinction. The rich and the educated stand in sharp juxtaposition to the great bulk of poor and uneducated, and the high silk hat and frock-coat form a striking contrast to the half-naked and sandalled peon in the plazas and streets of the cities. Similarly does the caballero, the horseman on caparisoned steed, spurn the dust on country roads through which the humble cotton-clad Indian labourer slinks to his toil. The horse, in Mexico, is always an outward sign of social superiority, and no self-respecting Mexican would ever be seen on foot beyond the paved streets of his cities. The noble animal is an integral part of Mexican life, social or industrial, and the Mexicans are in some respects the most expert horsemen in the world, as elsewhere shown.
The upper-class Mexican is generally a large landowner. The great estates which form his hacienda lie in one or the other part of the country, whether upon the great tableland or in the tropical regions which surround it. He spends a certain period of the year upon his hacienda, returning to the capital or journeying to Europe as desire or necessity may dictate. Great plantations of cotton, or immense areas of sugar-cane, or maguey, or other products yield him the considerable income which he enjoys; and, as a rule, the fertile lands of the Republic are in the hands of this class, to the exclusion of the great bulk of the inhabitants. But the haciendas are important centres of industry, supporting the rural population in their vicinity.
The Mexican shares the characteristics of the Latin race in his love for politics, military and other titles and distinctions, and his predilection for holding some Government office. The law, the army, medicine are professions which appeal to him as affording distinction or degree, as well as giving outlet to the love of scientific pursuits, generally, however, theoretical rather than practical. On all sides one hears men addressed as "Doctor," whether it be of science, laws, medicine, or divinity. This condition is observed by the traveller in all Spanish-American republics, and it seems to the foreign observer that the practical and plodding class of workers and trade-makers is insufficiently represented, bearing in mind the large amount of scientific and theoretical leadership. This is in accordance with the dictates of caste, inherited from Spain. The upper class have always had Indians to wait upon them, and a Quixotic tendency to the despising of manual labour has naturally resulted, as among the leisured class of any other country. Any occupation that cannot be performed in the habiliments of the frock-coat and silk hat seems derogatory to the Spanish-American, and, filtering down through all the strata of society above the peones this sentiment has the effect of keeping the young men in the cities and robbing the country of a race of intelligent peasants of white descent. The Spanish-American youth of the poorer class prefers to pass the days behind a counter selling cashmeres and silks to bargaining señoritas rather than to take up work on the land, which urgently requires more distributed and intelligent cultivation.
The young Mexican of the upper class cares little for sport as understood by the Anglo-Saxon, and the strenuous games of the young Briton or American, or the hard work of British sport, are alien to his ease-loving nature. It is true that tennis and football and even polo are played to a limited extent by enthusiastic young men in the capital, who have followed the example of British or American residents, but it is not to be expected that these alien games could be grafted upon a different stock. Horsemanship is, of course, a natural pastime; but this has nothing in common with the pastime of the English hunting-fields, notwithstanding that a certain class of Mexicans are exceedingly famous as horsemen and have no superiors in the world in this art, in some respects.
As regards political distinction and career, the system obtaining in Spanish-American countries—like that of the United States—causes a change every few years of almost the whole official body, from President and Cabinet Ministers downwards. This has advantages and disadvantages. It certainly creates a large and generally capable governing class or clique. It is rare in the society of the capitals of these countries to find prominent men who, at one time or other, have not been Cabinet Ministers or held other important State office. This gives—to the foreigner at least—a somewhat farcical impression of the life of the community, but, at any rate, it may be conceded that the Republican method gives nearly all good citizens "a show," to use an Americanism, in the State or municipal life.
Whilst, up to recent years, almost all the administrative positions were filled by men with military titles, there is now a tendency to use the talent of men of civil professions in those departments of State corresponding thereto. Thus it is refreshing to observe that the Department of Fomento—Development or Promotion—one of the most important, has at its head and secondary positions men who are Engineers, not Generals. This Department is concerned with the railways, roads, mines, irrigation, and all matters of a similar nature, and its administration naturally calls for technical knowledge which the ubiquitous General does not often possess. The Minister of Foreign Affairs has been a lawyer (licenciado) as well as his seconds; others of the Cabinet Ministers are of the same professions, and the principal representatives of the country abroad, their ambassadors, are men whose simple titles of "Señor Don," and "Honourable" show their civil origin. So the picturesque and vigorous military element, invaluable in its place, is kept within its natural bounds, and as the pages of the book of Mexico are turned over the portraits of distinguished men with plumed hats and sword and uniform tend to become less and the civilian dress and the thoughtful brow of the educated civil statesman take their place. Among the ancient Mexicans, in pre-Hispanic days, commerce was a most honourable calling, as indeed were the handicrafts. But until recent years the titles of soldier and priest in Christian Mexico—as, indeed, it was in mediæval Europe—seemed to be those which alone called for respect.