We have still the remnants of an ancient custom this day, which
shews the impatient feelings with which men sacrifice their comforts
to the fears of superstition. Children of all ranks--those of the
poor in the streets, and such as belong to the better classes in
their houses--appear fantastically decorated, not unlike the English
chimney-sweepers on May-day, with caps of gilt and coloured paper,
and coats made of the _Crusade Bulls_ of the preceding year. In this
attire they keep up an incessant din the whole day, crying, as they
sound their drums and rattles, _Aserrar la vieja; la pícara pelleja_:
“Saw down the old woman, the roguish b--ch.” About midnight, parties
of the common people parade the streets, knocking at every door,
and repeating the same words. I understand that they end this revel
by sawing in two, the figure of an old woman, which is meant as the
emblem of Lent.
There is little ground, however, for these peevish feelings against
old Lent, among the class that exhibits them most; for few of the
poorer inhabitants of large towns taste any meat in the course of
the year, and, living as they do upon a very scanty pittance of
bread and pulse, can ill afford to confine themselves to one meal
in the four-and-twenty hours. The privations of the fasting season
are felt chiefly by that numerous class who, unable the other hand,
a strong sense of religious duty; submit like unwilling slaves
to the unwelcome task which they dare not omit. Many, however,
fall off before the end of Lent, and take to their breakfasts
and suppers under the sanction of some good-natured Doctor, who
declares fasting injurious to their health. Others, whose healthy
looks would belie the dispensing physician, compound between the
Church and their stomachs by adding an ounce of bread to the cup of
chocolate which, under the name of _Parvedad_, our divines admit as
a venial infraction. There is, besides, a fast-day supper, which was
introduced by those good souls the primitive Monks at their evening
conferences, where, finding that an empty stomach was apt to increase
the hollowness of their heads, they allowed themselves a crust of
bread and a glass of water, as a support to their fainting eloquence.
This relaxation of the primitive fast took the name of _Collatio_, or
conference, which it preserves among us. The Catholic casuists are
not agreed, however, on the quantity of bread and vegetables, (for
any other food is strictly excluded from the _collation_,) which may
be allowed without being guilty of a _deadly sin_. The _Probabilistæ_
extend this liberty as far as six ounces by weight, while the
_Probabilioristæ_ will not answer for the safety of a hungry soul,
who indulges beyond four ounces. Who shall decide when doctors
disagree? I have known an excellent man who weighed his food on these
occasions till he brought it within some grains of four ounces. But
few are inclined to take the matter so seriously, and, confiding in
the deceitful balance of their eyes, use a system of weights in which
four ounces fall little short of a pound.[39]
[39] The Casuists are divided into _Probabilistæ_ and
_Probabilioristæ_. The first, among whom were the Jesuits,
maintain that a certain degree of probability as to the
lawfulness of an action is enough to secure against sin. The
second, supported by the _Dominicans_ and the _Jansenists_ (a
kind of Catholic Calvinists, condemned by the Church) insist on
the necessity of always taking the _safest_, or most probable
side. The French proverb _Le mieux est l’ennemi du bien_, is
perfectly applicable to the practical effects of these two
systems, as they are observed in Spain.