“And during about thirty years has some priest gone forth from the institution to preach to the Indians in their native language?”
“Why, no sir! During the thirty years what has been, and is, learned is the philosophy and richness of the Aztec language. You must have seen the precious little work, by my professor, upon the beauty and richness of the Aztec language, elegantly bound, which was sent to the Paris Exposition.”
“But man—Florencito,” (rising, pacing, and puffing at my cigar) “really, all this and nothing are much the same. These programs, in which one speaks eloquently of the beauty and richness of the Aztec language are no more than pretty theories. This book upon the richness and beauty of the Aztec language, with all its elegant binding, is but a pretty theory. The practical! The practical! Let me give you my opinion in the matter briefly, and in four propositions: First, the ecclesiastical government and the civil government have the obligation and the mission of civilizing the Indians; second, for this, in each bishopric and in each State there ought to be chairs of the Indian languages spoken in the territory—for example, in the Seminary and in one of the State Colleges of Mexico, there ought to be a chair of the Aztec language; in the Seminary and State College of Queretaro, there ought to be a chair of Otomi; in the Seminary and in the State College of Morelia, there ought to be chairs of Tarascan and Matlazinca; in the Seminary and in the State College of Guadalajara, there ought to be a chair of the Cora language; in the Seminary and State College of San Luis Potosi, there ought to be a chair of the Huastec; in the Seminary and the State College of Puebla, there ought to be a chair of Aztec; in the Seminary and the State College of Jalapa there ought to be a chair of Totonaco; in the Seminary and in the State College of Oaxaca there ought to be chairs of the different indigenous languages spoken in the territory—chiefly the Mixtec and Zapotec, etc.; third, it ought to be, that from the seminaries there shall go forth priests to be curas in the Indian towns of the bishopric, who shall preach to the Indians and catechize them in their own language; fourth, it ought to be, that from the State Colleges, primary teachers shall go forth to teach the elementary branches to the Indians of the State, in their own idiom—and shall go forth jefes politicos, who shall be able to treat with the Indians, talking to them in their own languages.”
“Sir, these things appear to me impossible.”
“Yes, I know that there can be given but two answers to my proposition and my arguments. The first is the ‘non possumus,’ ‘we cannot.’[3] One can preach in cathedrals and other magnificent temples, to an elegant gathering, afterward print the sermon and distribute copies liberally to select society; but to subject one’s self to the task of learning an indigenous tongue, and to go to preach to the Indians—that, one cannot do. One can be a jefe politico in a city, where comforts abound, and draw a fat salary; but the abnegation and patriotism of exercising the administrative power in an Indian town—a despicable thing! Sad reply. Unhappy Mexican nation during the colonial epoch! and, unhappy Mexican nation, still, in 1891, because you yet preserve many—even very many—remnants of the colonial education, and this is the principal hindrance to your progress and well-being. We Mexicans, because of the education which we received from the Spanish, are much given to scholastic disputes, to beautiful discourses, pretty poems, enthusiastic toasts, quixotic proclamations, projects, laws, decrees, programs of scientific education, plans of public amelioration, in Andalusian style and well-rounded periods; but, as for the practical—the Spanish sloth, the Spanish fanaticism for the statu quo, the Indian idleness and cowardice, do but little. In theories we have the boldness of Don Quixote, and in practice we have the pusillanimity, the inability to conquer obstacles, and the phlegm of Sancho Panza.”
“My teacher, Don Agustin,” said Florencito, “has told us that Padre Sahagun and many other missionaries of the sixteenth century dedicated themselves to the study of the native tongues because they found them highly philosophical and adapted to express even metaphysical ideas.”
“That is true,” I replied, “but the Padre Sahagun and the other missionary philologists of the sixteenth century dedicated themselves to the study of the Indian languages of the country, not to detain themselves ... (in) the philosophy and richness of the Aztec language, without moving a peg to go and teach some Indian; but in order that they might use them as means for the practical—to wit, to preach, to catechize, and to teach the Indians the civilizing truths of Christianity.”
ALFREDO CHAVERO.
Few men are better known throughout Mexico today than Alfredo Chavero. As a lawyer, a politician, a man of affairs and a writer, he has been eminently successful. He was born in the City of Mexico, February 1, 1841. He studied law, and began the practice of the profession at the age of twenty years. In 1862 he was elected Deputy to Congress. A Liberal in politics, he was associated with Juarez throughout the period of the French intervention. After the downfall of the Empire in 1867, he entered journalism and began his career in letters. During the administration of Lerdo de Tejada he was in Europe, but when that government fell, he returned to Mexico and was appointed to the second position in the department of foreign affairs. He has occupied other important government positions, among them that of City Treasurer and Governor of the Federal District and has for many years been a member of the House of Deputies, of which he has at times been the presiding officer.