Igapó near the Rio Negro, Amazonas.

Caripuna Indians, on the Madeira River.

Farther south the Indian seems to have been of a different origin, whose cradle is assigned by some scientists to Paraguay, and who are identified with the fierce Caribs, invaders of the West Indian islands and destroyers of the gentle aborigines of those shores before the Spanish came. No pottery remains are found in the south as in the north; these tribes seem to have been nomadic in tendency, cultivators of no arts that have left traces, builders of but light and temporary dwellings, living upon few foods and those obtained chiefly by hunting. The chief articles cultivated were mandioca and maize, the forests yielding wild fruits and nuts. There seems to be no doubt that the majority, if not all, of these natives were given to cannibal feasts, but in some cases the act was ceremonial and in others was confined to enemies of the tribe. Apart from these propensities the native appears to have been a gentle and even timid creature, endowed with simple good sense, and quite a man of his word. With the Portuguese settler he was almost always at loggerheads, but the French knew well how to make a valuable and faithful ally of him, loyal supplier of food and shelter in the darkest day of the French attempt at colonization both north and south; the Jesuit priests, too, who followed the Indians into the wilderness were able to make quiet converts out of them, and to train them to domesticity. Since the Jesuits’ work was destroyed and the missionaries themselves expelled from the country the Indian has been practically let alone; withdrawn socially, his part in Brazilian life has been a silent one. He has been still living in the Stone Age. He never knew and has not adopted the use of metal, erected no stone or other permanent buildings of any kind, and set up no temples to his gods. Idea of a deity was to many tribes represented by Tupan, a being somewhat resembling the North American’s “Great Spirit;” medicine men, called pagés, performed and still perform, wonders and enchantments to cure the sick. When Prince Adalbert of Prussia went up the Amazon in 1843 he was able to see one of these wizards at work upon a sick man, and himself complained of a pain in his arm, asking the pagé to cure it; the spot was rubbed with unguents, covered with leaves, exorcisms were made, and at last the pagé blowing upon the arm freed a butterfly and declared that this was the disappearing pain; the European onlookers said that it was a marvel that the wizard had been able to go through such a performance with the butterfly concealed in his mouth: evidently these are quite good conjurers. It is not unknown for the position of pagé to be offered to a distinguished foreigner: I heard on the Amazon of a German doctor, whose cures had won the confidence of a remote tribe, receiving this curious honour.

The only man of modern times who has had continued success with the native of the interior is that great Brazilian, Colonel Candido Rondon: in his work of constructing telegraphs and roads and mapping and surveying in the vast sertões of Matto Grosso, Rondon has laboured for twenty-five years to win over the timid and hostile Indians. He has so far succeeded that not only do they now refrain from destroying his lines and stations, but have been trained to the service of the Commission which Rondon heads, guarding the posts and cultivating fields in their neighbourhood for the supply of the engineers. In 1915 a series of moving picture films were shown in Brazilian cities, made on the route of the Commission’s work, and showing interesting pictures of Parecís, Nhambiquaras, and other Indian tribes friendly to the invaders of their interior regions; they are frequently fine-looking, welldeveloped, sturdy people, very well worth saving among the world’s races.

All over the Americas the question of the fate of the native is a painful one. In North America, both in Canada and the United States, he has diminished with extraordinary rapidity even when wars have ceased; contact with the white man seems to be fatal to him. It is only of late, since he ceased to be a physical danger, that conscience has been aroused on his behalf and efforts made to retain the survivals. Farther south the Aztec is still holding his own, a hardy race living its own life yet and able to preserve customs and wide land spaces. In Central America the only marked group of pure race is the gentle Guatemalan Maya, almost enslaved but still living the life of the sixteenth century in the uplands: when taken to work in the lowlands, he dies.

In Peru the natives are still a strong tough mountain people: Ecuador, Bolivia and Chile also have incorporated the Indian into the industrial life of the country; from the Argentine he has practically disappeared, the face of the land occupied by restless, industrial strangers, while he has no place in statistics or in calculations affecting the progress of the country. He is no more a factor than the North American Indian is a factor in the United States.

Is he to suffer a similar fate in Brazil? Not yet, for his numbers are large and he still occupies great tracts of the vast hinterlands. There is, too, a lively public sentiment on the subject of the Indian in Brazil, statesmen and writers frequently calling attention to the problem. Spaces in Brazil are so enormous that it will be many a generation before any question arises of intrusion upon Indian retreats, and perhaps by that time an extension of the methods of Rondon will have divested him of fear of civilization.

It cannot, however, be imagined that the native of Brazil will supply the labour needed to develop great interior regions; he is not willing to work at given tasks at appointed times and to maintain such work day by day. He is probably not physically fitted for such tasks. When, seduced by agents during rubber booms, he has been bribed into working at the systematic gathering of goma, he has failed and died in too many instances; only when his blood is mingled with that of another race, and the caboclo produced, is the child of the selvagem able to take his place in the industrial world.

With the suggestion that the Indian should be strengthened by admixtures of introduced Asiatics, on the score that the Oriental and the native of Brazil are already akin, I have scant patience. A tilt of the eyelids seen in some Central and South American natives has been the chief basis of a number of fantastic theories generally pre-supposing the passage of large numbers of Chinese immigrants by way of the Behring Strait; difficulties are brushed away with an easy hand by enthusiasts of this idea, but to ignore them is, as T. A. Joyce says, to ignore the value of scientific evidence. It is just as reasonable to suppose that China or Japan or both were colonized from South America as to insist on the reverse movement, but as a matter of fact the division is so extreme on the very points where resemblances should exist—in language roots, social customs, arts and food, and religion—that discussion of the question appears futile. It may be taken for granted that oriental immigration and mixing will not be accepted by Brazilians as the solution to the Indian problem; like many another Brazilian problem, it will be solved from within.

Education in Brazil for the masses of the people has been the subject of serious consideration and effort for the last fifty years. Government schools in the care of the separate States differ widely in varying latitudes, both in quantity and quality, and problems depend largely upon the origin of the population. The Italian immigrants of São Paulo are obviously not in the same class as pupils as the negroes of Bahia State or the three-quarter Indians of Amazonas, nor can States with few exports and small revenues spend a corresponding amount on education with rich and expanding regions.

São Paulo is in the matter of public schools, as in commerce, the leader State; she is a wealthy State, and she has not hesitated to spend enormous sums on all kinds of public works, whether roads, water-supply, railways, drainage—or school buildings and service. The Director of Public Instruction, Dr. João Chrisostomo, in speeches and writings shows that he has a very clear idea of the object of modern schooling, to train a healthy mind in a healthy body. Medical and dental attendance upon the children is regularly carried out in the Paulista schools, teachers are trained in an excellently equipped and managed Normal School, and buildings have been multiplied until there is today a school for every fourteen hundred of the inhabitants of São Paulo state. The task of educating the children of the working population is a more difficult one in the agricultural districts, but every good coffee fazenda has its school. São Paulo has made special efforts to bring new immigrants into touch with Brazilian conditions by establishing a series of night schools where Portuguese is taught, together with Brazilian history and geography; the writer once visited a school of this kind and saw Italians, Syrians, Greeks and a Japanese, all adults, learning earnestly in the same room.

Not all of the Brazilian States have as much money to spare as São Paulo, but the framework, and much of the real building and equipment, of a satisfactory public school system exists in every section of the country. Feminine professional education has made a certain start, and the writer has rarely seen a more promising, and handsome, group of young women than the students of a normal school in Pará. Many Brazilian cities take pride in their professional and technical colleges, some of very old foundation, as that of the School of Law of Pernambuco, the School of Medicine of Bahia, the Polytechnic School of Rio de Janeiro, and the School of Law of São Paulo.

Religious scholastic institutions are many, several of the great Orders, such as the Benedictines, Franciscans, and of course the Jesuits, maintaining splendid, large, and wealthy colleges. Convents for girls are also of first-class importance in the Brazilian educational field, the Sacred Heart institutions taking thousands of girls, and apparently giving them a good training. In São Paulo there are several schools of Italian origin; there is a popular French Lycée in Rio; the American Mackenzie College in São Paulo, founded by Dr. Horace Lane, is a fine institution doing good work—possessing a kindergarten branch for young children as well as upper grade classes and technical courses; and there is a series of excellent and popular schools known as the Gymnasio Anglo-Brazileiro. The first of these was started in 1899 by an Englishman, Mr. Charles W. Armstrong, in São Paulo, for boys; subsequently a beautiful property was acquired among the woods on the lower slopes of the Dois Irmãos mountain just outside Rio, and a second school opened there, followed in 1913 by the foundation of a school for girls on the slopes of the Gavea. Sixty-two per cent of the pupils are Brazilians, who seem to take to the healthy open-air games of the Anglo-Saxon with a great deal of appreciation.

Agricultural School at Piracicaba, S. Paulo State.

Maintained by the State Government; teaches scientific agriculture, conducts chemical experiments and maintains a splendid demonstration farm. Director, Dr. Emilio Castello.

The Butantan Institute, S. Paulo City.

The Instituto Serumtherapico do Estado de São Paulo is maintained by the State Government. Several thousand poisonous snakes are kept here in the Serpentario and from them venom is extracted and injected into horses; the resulting serum is prepared as an antidote for snakebite, and is distributed all over Brazil. The Director is Dr. Vital Brasil.

The more southerly colonies have their own schools, generally taught in their own languages; the only criticism of this retention of the immigrants’ tongue and ideas that I have ever heard in Brazil made itself known at the time when rumours were freely repeated of plots in the German settlements of Rio Grande do Sul, soon after the outbreak of war in Europe, and which were strengthened by von Tannenberg’s book on German expansion, which discussed the annexation of South Brazil, Uruguay and Argentina. Brazilian newspapers ran stories dealing with the possibility of German naval victories being followed by the occupation of Rio Grande and the use of the Lagôa dos Patos as a base for vessels, and while the defeat of Admiral von Spee off the Falkland Islands disposed of such a plan if it ever existed, the suggestion drew the attention of many formerly indifferent people to the self-centred life of some of the German colonies. It was complained that nothing but the German language was taught in the schools, that public notices and records were issued in German, and the German ideal held before the people to the exclusion of any other. The matter was very warmly argued, the colonists scouting, and with a show of reason, any evil intention; it is hardly to be supposed that any sane person could plan the deliverance of a piece of South American territory to a foreign power, with the surrounding republics, not to speak of Brazil herself, looking quietly on. But so much feeling was expressed that the Governor of Rio Grande thought it well to announce new introductions of the Portuguese language into schools. As a matter of fact the Italians in Rio Grande out-number the inhabitants of German blood, few of whom are German born; emigration to Brazil was forbidden by the German Government in the year 1859, after some eighty thousand people had settled: the survivors with their descendants are said today to number two hundred and fifty thousand. Living as they have chiefly done, in isolated towns, it would be strange if they had acquired any habits and customs other than those of their European fathers; they speak German for the same reasons that they sleep on feather beds, brew beer, plant gardens and build comfortable houses.

The sweeping charge that South America is a land of revolutions is made so often and so lightly that few people stop to consider the record of the vastly different countries comprising the area below Panama. When the writer has remarked—outside Brazil—that Brazil has never as a whole had any blood-stained revolution, the statement has been received with looks of polite incredulity, and yet it is true. Prior to separation from Portugal a few local, factional feuds occurred, as in Pernambuco when the natives quarrelled with the petty merchant Portuguese, and in Minas when the Paulistas fought the men of other states for claims to the gold mines, but there was no more serious internal disturbance. Independence from Portugal was achieved almost without bloodshed, by force of a proclamation: the end of the monarchy and establishment of a republic was attained peacefully.

After the republican régime began there was occasional trouble, a mere candle flicker compared to the republican bonfires in neighbour states, the insurgents of Rio Grande giving trouble for some years; there were two revolts by the navy, of a not too creditable kind. In none of these were the Brazilian people deeply concerned, nor did they affect the government of the country. No Viceroy of Brazil, no King and no President, has been assassinated in the history of the country.

External troubles, excluding the fights for twenty-four years to expel the Dutch from Pernambuco, are limited to two, with neighbours in the south; the first of these was as much the fault of Brazil as that of Argentina, and she was forced to give up the Cisplatine Province (Uruguay) forcibly annexed: but in the second, the Paraguayan war, Brazil acted only after years of aggression obliged her to take up arms. The fact is that the Brazilian is a peace lover, that Brazil has had few wars in the past and has no cause for quarrel as far as can be foreseen.

Wars between South American states have frequently hinged upon questions of boundaries, the result of vague delimitation in colonial days when much of the interior was still a sealed book. Brazil took steps early in her history as a republic to avoid such differences: that good diplomat the Barão de Rio Branco worked for years on the subject of Brazilian boundaries, and succeeded in making definite settlements with the Argentine, Bolivia and French Guiana.

Another big step for the preservation of Brazilian peace was made when in 1915 a pact was arranged between Argentina, Brazil and Chile which binds the three greatest South American states in a closer alliance than has yet been possible between North American countries. The terms include “rules for proceeding to facilitate the friendly solution of questions that were formerly excluded from arbitration” in virtue of the treaty of 1899 between Brazil and Chile, of 1902 between Chile and Argentina, and of 1905 between Argentina and Brazil. The articles of the new agreement arrange for the submission of disputes to a permanent Commission, the signatories agreeing not to commit hostile acts while the Commission’s report is pending or until one year has elapsed: the constitution of the Commission is provided for, and it is agreed that any one of the three contracting parties has power to convoke it; the seat of the Commission was fixed in the neighbouring (and presumably neutral) Republic of Uruguay—at Montevideo—and after it had presented its report upon matters in dispute the contracting parties, it was agreed, would recover liberty of action “to proceed as best consults their interest in the matter under investigation.”

The A. B. C. Treaty, as it is known, was signed at Buenos Aires on May 25, 1915, by representatives of the three Governments; its strength has not been tested, but there is little reason to doubt that the formal acceptance of the arbitration principle by these three powerful states in the agreement is a big step forward in American history. “Brazil has always been an advocate of arbitration, and has accepted the fiats of arbitrators even when against her interests,” says J. P. Wileman, adding that the actual treaty is but a development of Brazil’s historic policy, though in the particular form it has taken the formula adopted by the United States has been followed; it is also significant because it “diminishes, although it does not eliminate, chances of war between the three leading South American countries,” and “leaves no excuse for the ruinous competition in armaments that has contributed so powerfully to the actual financial crises in all three countries.” With burdensome purchases of fighting vessels, rifles and cannon eliminated from their budgets the Argentine, Brazil and Chile can therefore “in future devote all their energies and resources to the moral and material advancement of their peoples.”

The proof of arbitration puddings is in the eating. If the contributed ingredients do not emerge from well-kept cupboards, they are apt to sour whatever the label upon the cooked product. North of Panama the five Central American Republics agreed upon the erection of the Court of Cartago some years ago where all disputes between these neighbours should be thrashed out. Approval smiled upon the project from the United States, deeply interested in the peace of Central America; Mr. Carnegie spent a large number of dollars upon the building of a beautiful palace, and the first meetings were held with mutual kindliness and the applause of the world. The writer saw the Peace Palace in May, 1910. A few days previously an earthquake had visited the lovely mountain-surrounded valley of Cartago and nothing remained of a charming city but a heap of broken bricks and stone. The Peace Palace was a dust-heap, with twisted iron girders thrusting up against the serene sky from a medley of disaster. The sight was symbolical of the spiritual fate of the Court. At the shake of an earthquake of opinions it is in ruins.

When Nicaragua signed a treaty which Costa Rica, Salvador and Honduras declare an encroachment upon their territorial rights, recourse was had to the Court, re-erected in San José. The Court found for the three appellants—and Nicaragua refuses to accept its decision.

Let us hope the A. B. C. treaty is made of better material.