The first survey of the Palauan Island coast is said to have been made by the British. A British map of Puerta Princesa, with a few miles of adjoining coast, was shown to me in the Government House of this place. It appears that the west coast is not navigable for ships within at least two miles of the shore, although there are a few channels leading to creeks. Vessels coming from the west usually pass through the Straits of Balabac, between the island of that name and the islets off the Borneo Island coast.

In the Island of Balabac there was absolutely nothing remarkable to be seen, unless it were a little animal about the size of a big cat, but in shape a perfect model of a doe. [70] I took one to Manila, but it died the day we arrived. No part of the island (which is very mountainous and fertile) appeared to be cultivated, and even the officials at the station had to obtain supplies from Manila, whilst cattle were brought from the Island of Cuyo, one of the Calamianes group.

In the latter years, the Home Government made efforts to colonize Palauan Island by offering certain advantages to emigrants. By Royal Order, dated February 25, 1885, the Islands of Palauan and Mindanao were to be occupied in an effectual manner, and outposts established, wherever necessary, to guarantee the secure possession of these islands. The points mentioned for such occupation in Palauan Island were Tagbusao and Malihut on the east coast, and Colasian and Malanut on the west coast. It also confirmed the Royal Decree of July 30, 1860, granting to all families emigrating to these newly established military posts, and all peaceful tribes of the Islands who might choose to settle there, exemption from the payment of tribute for six years. The families would be furnished with a free passage to these places, and each group would be supplied with seed and implements.

A subsequent Royal Order, dated January 19, 1886, was issued, to the effect:—That the Provincial Governors of the Provinces of North and South Ilocos were to stimulate voluntary emigration of the natives to Palauan Island, to the extent of 25 families from each of the two provinces per annum. That any payments due by them to the Public Treasury were to be condoned. That such families and any persons of good character who might establish themselves in Palauan should be exempt from the payment of taxes for ten years, and receive free passage there for themselves and their cattle, and three hectares of land gratis, to be under cultivation within a stated period. That two chupas of rice (vide Rice measure) and ten cents of a peso should be given to each adult, and one chupa of rice to each minor each day during the first six months from the date of their embarking. That the Governor of Palauan should be instructed respecting the highways to be constructed, and the convenience of opening free ports in that island. That the land and sea forces should be increased; and of the latter, a third-rate man-o'-war should be stationed on the west coast. That convicts should continue to be sent to Palauan, and the Governor should be authorized to employ all those of bad conduct in public works. That schools of primary instruction should be established in the island wherever such might be considered convenient, etc., etc. [71]

The Spaniards (in 1898) left nearly half the Philippine Archipelago to be conquered, but only its Mahometan inhabitants ever persistently took the aggressive against them in regular continuous warfare. The attempts of the Jesuit missionaries to convert them to Christianity were entirely futile, for the Panditas and the Romish priests were equally tenacious of their respective religious beliefs. The last treaty made between Spain and Sulu especially stipulated that the Mahometans should not be persecuted for their religion.

To overturn a dynasty, to suppress an organized system of feudal laws, and to eradicate an ancient belief, the principles of which had firmly established themselves among the populace in the course of centuries, was a harder task than that of bringing under the Spanish yoke detached groups of Malay immigrants. The pliant, credulous nature of the Luzon settlers—the fact that they professed no deeply-rooted religion, and—although advanced from the migratory to the settled condition—were mere nominal lieges of their puppet kinglings, were facilities for the achievement of conquest. True it is that the dynasties of the Aztecs of Mexico and the Incas of Peru yielded to Spanish valour, but there was the incentive of untold wealth; here, only of military glory, and the former outweighed the latter.

If the Spaniards failed to subjugate the Mahometans, or to incorporate their territory in the general administrative system of the Colony, after three centuries of intermittent endeavour, it is difficult to conceive that the Philippine Republic (had it subsisted) would have been more successful. It would have been useless to have resolved to leave the Moros to themselves, practically ignoring their existence. Any Philippine Government must needs hold them in check for the public weal, for the fact is patent that the Moro hates the native Christian not one iota less than he does the white man.



CHAPTER XI

Domesticated Natives—Origin—Character

The generally-accepted theory regarding the origin of the composite race which may be termed "domesticated natives," is, that their ancestors migrated to these Islands from Malesia, or the Malay Peninsula. But so many learned dissertations have emanated from distinguished men, propounding conflicting opinions on the descent of the Malays themselves, that we are still left on the field of conjecture.

There is good reason to surmise that, at some remote period, these Islands and the Islands of Formosa and Borneo were united, and possibly also they conjointly formed a part of the Asiatic mainland. Many of the islets are mere coral reefs, and some of the larger islands are so distinctly of coral formation that, regarded together with the numerous volcanic evidences, one is induced to believe that the Philippine Archipelago is the result of a stupendous upheaval by volcanic action. [72] At least it seems apparent that no autochthonous population existed on these lands in their island form. The first settlers were probably the Aetas, called also Negritos and Balugas, who may have drifted northwards from New Guinea and have been carried by the strong currents through the San Bernadino Straits and round Punta Santiago until they reached the still waters in the neighbourhood of Corregidor Island, whilst others were carried westwards to the tranquil Sulu Sea, and travelling thence northwards would have settled on the Island of Negros. It is a fact that for over a century after the Spanish conquest, Negros Island had no other inhabitants but these mountaineers and escaped criminals from other islands.

The sturdy races inhabiting the Central Luzon highlands, decidedly superior in physique and mental capacity to the Aetas, may be of Japanese origin, for shortly after the conquest by Legaspi a Spanish galley cruising off the north coast of Luzon fell in with Japanese, who probably penetrated to the interior of that island up the Rio Grande de Cagayan. Tradition tells us how the Japanese used to sail down the east coast of Luzon as far as the neighbourhood of Lamon Bay, where they landed and, descending the little rivers which flowed into the Lake of Bay, settled in that region which was called by the first Spanish conquerors Pagsanjan Province, and which included the Laguna Province of to-day, with a portion of the modern Tayabas Province.

Either the Japanese extended their sphere from the Lake of Bay shore, or, as some assert (probably erroneously), shipwrecked Japanese went up the Pansipit River to the Bombon Lake: the fact remains that Taal, with the Bombon Lake shore, was a Japanese settlement, and even up to now the Taalenos have characteristics differing from those of the pure Malay immigrant descendants. The Philippine patriot, Dr. Jose Rizal, was a good Japanese-Malay type.

The Tagalogs, who occupy a small portion of Luzon Island, chiefly the provinces of Batangas, Laguna, Rizal, and Bulacan, are believed to be the cross-breed descendants of these Japanese immigrants. At the period of the Spanish conquest the Tao ilog, that is to say, "the man who came by the river," afterwards corrupted into the more euphonious name of Tagalog, occupied only the lands from the south shore of Laguna de Bay southwards. Some traded with the Malay settlers at Maynila (as the city on the Pasig River was then called) and, little by little, radicated themselves in the Manila suburbs of Quiapo, Sampaloc, and Santa Cruz. [73]

From the West, long before the Spanish conquest, there was a great influx of Malays, who settled on the shores and the lowlands and drove the first settlers (Aetas) to the mountains. Central Luzon and the Lake environs being already occupied, they spread all over the vacant lands and adjacent islands south of Luzon. These expeditions from Malesia were probably accompanied by Mahometan propagandists, who had imparted to the Malays some notions, more or less crude, of their religion and culture, for at the time of Legaspi's arrival in Manila we find he had to deal with two chiefs, or petty kings, both assuming the Indian title of Rajah, whilst one of them had the Mahometan Arabic name of Soliman. Hitherto the Tao ilog, or Tagalog, had not descended the Pasig River so far as Manila, and the religious rites of the Tondo-Manila people must have appeared to Legaspi similar to the Mahometan rites, [74] for in several of his despatches to his royal master he speaks of these people as Moros. All the dialects spoken by the Filipinos of Malay and Japanese descent have their root in the pure Malay language. After the expulsion of all the adult male Japanese Lake settlers in the 17th century, it is feasible to suppose that the language of the males who took their place in the Lake district and intermarried there, should prevail over the idiom of the primitive settlers, and possibly this amalgamation of speech accounts for the difference between the Tagalog dialect and others of these islands peopled by Malays.

The Malay immigration must have taken place several generations prior to the coming of the Spaniards, for at that period the lowland occupants were already divided into peoples speaking different dialects and distinguishing themselves by groups whose names seem to be associated with the districts they inhabited, such as Pampanga, Iloco, and Cagayan; these denominations are probably derived from some natural condition, such as Pampang, meaning a river embankment, Ilog, a river, Cauayan, a bamboo, etc.

In a separate chapter (x.) the reputed origin of the Mahometans of the southern islands is alluded to. They are also believed to be immigrants from the West, and at the time of the conquest recent traditions which came to the knowledge of the Spaniards, and were recorded by them, prove that commercial relations existed between Borneo and Manila. There is a tradition [75] also of an attempted conquest of Luzon by a Borneo chief named Lacasama, about 250 years before the Spanish advent; but apparently the expedition came to grief near Luzon, off an island supposed by some to be Masbate.

The descendants of the Japanese and Malay immigrants were the people whom the Spanish invaders had to subdue to gain a footing. To the present day they, and the correlative Chinese and Spanish half-castes, are the only races, among the several in these Islands, subjected, in fact, to civilized methods. The expression "Filipino" neither denotes any autochthonous race, nor any nationality, but simply one born in those islands named the Philippines: it is, therefore, open to argument whether the child of a Filipino, born in a foreign country, could be correctly called a Filipino.

The christianized Filipinos, enjoying to-day the benefits of European training, are inclined to repudiate, as compatriots, the descendants of the non-christian tribes, although their concurrent existence, since the time of their immigrant forefathers, makes them all equally Filipinos. Hence many of them who were sent to the St. Louis Exhibition in 1904 were indignant because the United States Government had chosen to exhibit some types of uncivilized natives, representing about one-twelfth of the Philippine population. Without these exhibits, and on seeing only the educated Filipinos who formed the Philippine Commission, the American people at home might well have asked—Is not American civilization a superfluity in those islands?

The inhabitants of these Islands were by no means savages, entirely unreclaimed from barbarism before the Spanish advent in the 16th century. They had a culture of their own, towards which the Malay settlers themselves appear to have contributed very little. In the nascent pre-Spanish civilization, Japanese immigrants were almost the only agriculturists, mine-workers, manufacturers, gold-seekers, goldsmiths, and masters of the industrial arts in general. Pagsanjan (Laguna) was their great industrial centre. Malolos (Bulacan) was also an important Japanese trading base. Whilst working the mines of Ilocos their exemplary industry must undoubtedly have influenced the character of the Ilocanos. Away down in the Bicol country of Camarines, the Japanese pushed their trade, and from their great settlement in Taal their traffic must have extended over the whole province, first called by the Spaniards Taal y Balayan, but since named Batangas. From the Japanese, the Malays learnt the manufacture of arms, and the Igorrotes the art of metal-working. Along the coasts of the large inhabited islands the Chinese travelled as traders or middlemen, at great personal risk of attack by individual robbers, bartering the goods of manufacturers for native produce, which chiefly consisted of sinamay cloth, shark-fin, balate (trepang), edible birds'-nests, gold in grain, and siguey-shells, for which there was a demand in Siam for use as money. Every north-east monsoon brought down the junks to barter leisurely until the south-west monsoon should waft them back, and neither Chinese nor Japanese made the least attempt, nor apparently had the least desire, to govern the Islands or to overrule the natives. Without coercion, the Malay settlers would appear to have unconsciously submitted to the influence of the superior talent or astuteness of the sedulous races with whom they became merged and whose customs they adopted, proof of which can be traced to the present day. [76] Presumably the busy, industrious immigrants had neither time nor inclination for sanguinary conflicts, for those recorded appear to be confined to the raids of the migratory mountaineers and an occasional attack by some ambitious Borneo buccaneer. The reader who would wish to verify these facts is recommended to make a comparative study of native character in Vigan, Malolos, Taal, and Pagsanjan.

In treating of the domesticated natives' character, I wish it to be understood that my observations apply solely to the large majority of the six or seven millions of them who inhabit these Islands.

In the capital and the ports open to foreign trade, where cosmopolitan vices and virtues obtain, and in large towns, where there is a constant number of domiciled Europeans and Americans, the native has become a modified being. It is not in such places that a just estimate of character can be arrived at, even during many years' sojourn. The native must be studied by often-repeated casual residence in localities where his, or her, domestication is only "by law established," imposing little restraint upon natural inclinations, and where exotic notions have gained no influence.

Several writers have essayed to depict the Philippine native character, but with only partial success. Dealing with such an enigma, the most eminent physiognomists would surely differ in their speculations regarding the Philippine native of the present day. That Catonian figure, with placid countenance and solemn gravity of feature, would readily deceive any one as to the true mental organism within. The late parish priest of Alaminos (Batangas)—a Franciscan friar, who spent half his life in the Colony—left a brief manuscript essay on the native character. I have read it. In his opinion, the native is an incomprehensible phenomenon, the mainspring of whose line of thought and the guiding motive of whose actions have never yet been, and perhaps never will be, discovered.

The reasoning of a native and a European differs so largely that the mental impulse of the two races is ever clashing. Sometimes a native will serve a master satisfactorily for years, and then suddenly abscond, or commit some such hideous crime as conniving with a brigand band to murder the family and pillage the house.

When the hitherto faithful servant is remonstrated with for having committed a crime, he not unfrequently accounts for the fact by saying, "Senor, my head was hot." When caught in the act on his first start on highway robbery or murder, his invariable excuse is that he is not a scoundrel himself, but that he was "invited" by a relation or compadre to join the company.

He is fond of gambling, profligate, lavish in his promises, but lache in the extreme as to their fulfilment. He will never come frankly and openly forward to make a clean breast of a fault committed, or even a pardonable accident, but will hide it, until it is found out. In common with many other non-European races, an act of generosity or a voluntary concession of justice is regarded as a sign of weakness. Hence it is that the experienced European is often compelled to be more harsh than his real nature dictates.

If one pays a native 20 cents for a service performed, and that be exactly the customary remuneration, he will say nothing, but if a feeling of compassion impels one to pay 30 cents, the recipient will loudly protest that he ought to be paid more. [77] In Luzon the native is able to say "Thank you" (salamat-po) in his mother-tongue, but in Panay and Negros there is no way of expressing thanks in native dialect to a donor (the nearest approach to it is Dios macbayat); and although this may, at first sight, appear to be an insignificant fact, I think, nevertheless, a great deal may be deduced from it, for the deficiency of the word in the Visaya vernacular denotes a deficiency of the idea which that word should express.

If the native be in want of a trivial thing, which by plain asking he could readily obtain, he will come with a long tale, often begin by telling a lie, and whilst he invariably scratches his head, he will beat about the bush until he comes to the point, with a supplicating tone and a saintly countenance hiding a mass of falsity. But if he has nothing to gain for himself, his reticence is astonishingly inconvenient, for he may let one's horse die and tell one afterwards it was for want of rice-paddy, or, just at the very moment one wants to use something, he will tell one "Uala-po"—there is not any.

I have known natives whose mothers, according to their statement, have died several times, and each time they have tried to beg the loan of the burial expenses. The mother of my first servant died twice, according to his account.

Even the best class of natives do not appreciate, or feel grateful for, or even seem to understand a spontaneous gift. Apparently, they only comprehend the favour when one yields to their asking. The lowest classes never give to each other, unsolicited, a cent's worth, outside the customary reciprocal feast-offerings. If a European makes voluntary gratuities to the natives, he is considered a fool—they entertain a contempt for him, which develops into intolerable impertinence. If the native comes to borrow, lend him a little less than he asks for, after a verbose preamble; if one at once lent, or gave, the full value requested, he would continue to invent a host of pressing necessities, until one's patience was exhausted. He seldom restores the loan of anything voluntarily. On being remonstrated with for his remissness, after the date of repayment or return of the article has expired, he will coolly reply, "You did not ask me for it." An amusing case of native reasoning came within my experience just recently. I lent some articles to an educated Filipino, who had frequently been my guest, and, at the end of three months, I requested their return. Instead of thanking me for their use, he wrote a letter expressing his indignation at my reminder, saying that I "ought to know they were in very good hands!" A native considers it no degradation to borrow money: it gives him no recurrent feeling of humiliation or distress of mind. Thus, he will often give a costly feast to impress his neighbours with his wealth and maintain his local prestige, whilst on all sides he has debts innumerable. At most, with his looseness of morality, he regards debt as an inconvenience, not as a calamity.

Before entering another (middle- or lower-class) native's house, he is very complimentary, and sometimes three minutes' polite excusatory dialogue is exchanged between the visitor and the native visited before the former passes the threshold. When the same class of native enters a European's house, he generally satisfies his curiosity by looking all around, and often pokes his head into a private room, asking permission to enter afterwards.

The lower-class native never comes at first call; among themselves it is usual to call five or six times, raising the voice each time. If a native is told to tell another to come, he seldom goes to him to deliver the message, but calls him from a distance. When a native steals (and I must say they are fairly honest), he steals only what he wants. One of the rudest acts, according to their social code, is to step over a person asleep on the floor. Sleeping is, with them, a very solemn matter; they are very averse to waking any one, the idea being, that during sleep the soul is absent from the body, and that if slumber be suddenly arrested the soul might not have time to return. When a person, knowing the habits of the native, calls upon him and is told "He is asleep," he does not inquire further—the rest is understood: that he may have to wait an indefinite time until the sleeper wakes up—so he may as well depart. To urge a servant to rouse one, one has to give him very imperative orders to that effect: then he stands by one's side and calls "Senor, senor!" repeatedly, and each time louder, until one is half awake; then he returns to the low note, and gradually raises his voice again until one is quite conscious.

In Spanish times, wherever I went in the whole Archipelago—near the capital, or 500 miles from it—I found mothers teaching their offspring to regard the European as a demoniacal being, an evil spirit, or, at least, as an enemy to be feared! If a child cried, it was hushed by the exclamation, "Castila!" (European). If a white man approached a poor hut or a fine native residence, the cry of caution, the watchword for defence was always heard—"Castila!"—and the children hastened their retreat from the dreaded object. But this is now a thing of the past since the native crossed swords with the "Castila" (q.v.) and the American on the battle-field, and, rightly or wrongly, thoroughly believes himself to be a match for either in equal numbers.

The Filipino, like most Orientals, is a good imitator, but having no initiative genius, he is not efficient in anything. He will copy a model any number of times, but one cannot get him to make two copies so much alike that the one is undistinguishable from the other. Yet he has no attachment for any occupation in particular. To-day he will be at the plough; to-morrow a coachman, a collector of accounts, a valet, a sailor, and so on; or he will suddenly renounce social trammels in pursuit of lawless vagabondage. I once travelled with a Colonel Marques, acting-Governor of Cebu, whose valet was an ex-law student. Still, many are willing to learn, and really become very expert artisans, especially machinists.

The native is indolent in the extreme, and never tires of sitting still, gazing at nothing in particular. He will do no regular work without an advance; his word cannot be depended upon; he is fertile in exculpatory devices; he is momentarily obedient, but is averse to subjection. He feigns friendship, but has no loyalty; he is calm and silent, but can keep no secret; he is daring on the spur of the moment, but fails in resolution if he reflects. He is wantonly unfeeling towards animals; cruel to a fallen foe; tyrannical over his own people when in power; rarely tempers his animosities with compassion or pity, but is devotedly fond of his children. He is shifty, erratic, void of chivalrous feeling; and if familiarity be permitted with the common-class native, he is liable to presume upon it. The Tagalog is docile and pliant, but keenly resents an injustice.

Native superstition and facile credulity are easily imposed upon. A report emitted in jest, or in earnest, travels with alarming rapidity, and the consequences have not unfrequently been serious. The native rarely sees a joke, and still more rarely makes one. He never reveals anger, but he will, with the most profound calmness, avenge himself, awaiting patiently the opportunity to use his bowie-knife with effect. Mutilation of a vanquished enemy is common among these Islanders. If a native recognizes a fault by his own conscience, he will receive a flogging without resentment or complaint; if he is not so convinced of the misdeed, he will await his chance to give vent to his rancour.

He has a profound respect only for the elders of his household, and the lash justly administered. He rarely refers to past generations in his lineage, and the lowest class do not know their own ages. The Filipino, of any class, has no memory for dates. In 1904 not one in a hundred remembered the month and year in which General Aguinaldo surrendered. During the Independence war, an esteemed friend of mine, a Philippine priest, died, presumably of old age. I went to his town to inquire all about it from his son, but neither the son nor another near relation could recollect, after two days' reflection, even the year the old man passed away. Another friend of mine had his brains blown out during the Revolution. His brother was anxious to relate the tragedy to me and how he had lost 20,000 pesos in consequence, but he could not tell me in which month it happened. Families are very united, and claims for help and protection are admitted however distant the relationship may be. Sometimes the connection of a "hanger-on" with his host's family will be so remote and doubtful, that he can only be recognized as "un poco pariente nada mas" (a sort of kinsman). But the house is open to all.

The native is a good father and a good husband, unreasonably jealous of his wife, careless of the honour of his daughter, and will take no heed of the indiscretions of his spouse committed before marriage. Cases have been known of natives having fled from their burning huts, taking care to save their fighting-cocks, but leaving their wives and children to look after themselves.

If a question be suddenly put to a native, he apparently loses his presence of mind, and gives the reply most convenient to save himself from trouble, punishment, or reproach. It is a matter of perfect indifference to him whether the reply be true or not. Then, as the investigation proceeds, he will amend one statement after another, until, finally, he has practically admitted his first explanation to be quite false. One who knows the native character, so far as its mysteries are penetrable, would never attempt to get at the truth of a question by a direct inquiry—he would "beat about the bush," and extract the truth bit by bit. Nor do the natives, rich or poor, of any class in life, and with very few exceptions in the whole population, appear to regard lying as a sin, but rather as a legitimate, though cunning, convenience, which should be resorted to whenever it will serve a purpose. It is my frank opinion that they do not, in their consciences, hold lying to be a fault in any degree. If the liar be discovered and faced, he rarely appears disconcerted—his countenance rather denotes surprise at the discovery, or disappointment at his being foiled in the object for which he lied. As this is one of the most remarkable characteristics of the Filipino of both sexes in all spheres of life, I have repeatedly discussed it with the priests, several of whom have assured me that the habit prevails even in the confessional. [78] In the administration of justice this circumstance is inconvenient, because a witness is always procurable for a few pesos. In a law-case, in which one or both parties belong to the lowest class, it is sometimes difficult to say whether the false or the true witnesses are in majority.

Men and women alike find exaggerated enjoyment in litigation, which many keep up for years. Among themselves they are tyrannical. They have no real sentiment, nor do they practise virtue for virtue's sake, and, apart from their hospitality, in which they (especially the Tagalogs) far excel the European, all their actions appear to be only guided by fear, or interest, or both.

The domesticated Tagalogs of Luzon have made greater progress in civilization and good manners than the Visayos of Panay and Negros. The Tagalog differs vastly from his southern brother in his true nature, which is more pliant, whilst he is by instinct cheerfully and disinterestedly hospitable. Invariably a European wayfarer in a Tagalog village is invited by one or another of the principal residents to lodge at his house as a free guest, for to offer payment would give offence. A present of some European article might be made, but it is not at all looked for. The Tagalog host lends his guest horses or vehicles to go about the neighbourhood, takes him round to the houses of his friends, accompanies him to any feast which may be celebrated at the time of his visit, and lends him his sporting-gun, if he has one. The whole time he treats him with the deference due to the superiority which he recognizes. He is remarkably inquisitive, and will ask all sorts of questions about one's private affairs, but that is of no consequence—he is not intrusive, and if he be invited to return the visit in the capital, or wherever one may reside, he accepts the invitation reluctantly, but seldom pays the visit. Speaking of the Tagalog as a host, pure and simple, he is generally the most genial man one could hope to meet.

The Negros and Panay Visayo's cold hospitality is much tempered with the prospect of personal gain—quite a contrast to the Tagalog. On the first visit he might admit the white traveller into his house out of mere curiosity to know all about him—whence he comes—why he travels—how much he possesses—and where he is going. The basis of his estimation of a visitor is his worldly means; or, if the visitor be engaged in trade, his power to facilitate his host's schemes would bring him a certain measure of civility and complaisance. He is fond of, and seeks the patronage of Europeans of position. In manners, the Negros and Panay Visayo is uncouth and brusque, and more conceited, arrogant, self-reliant, ostentatious, and unpolished than his northern neighbour. If remonstrated with for any fault, he is quite disposed to assume a tone of impertinent retort or sullen defiance. The Cebuano is more congenial and hospitable.

The women, too, are less affable in Panay and Negros, and evince an almost incredible avarice. They are excessively fond of ornament, and at feasts they appear adorned with an amount of gaudy French jewellery which, compared with their means, cost them a lot of money to purchase from the swarm of Jew pedlars who, before the Revolution of 1896, periodically invaded the villages.

If a European calls on a well-to-do Negros or Panay Visayo, the women of the family saunter off in one direction or another, to hide themselves in other rooms, unless the visitor be well known to the family. If met by chance, perhaps they will return a salutation, perhaps not. They seldom indulge in a smile before a stranger; have no conversation; no tuition beyond music and the lives of the Saints, and altogether impress the traveller with their insipidity of character, which chimes badly with their manifest air of disdain.

The women of Luzon (and in a slightly less degree the Cebuanas) are more frank, better educated, and decidedly more courteous and sociable. Their manners are comparatively lively, void of arrogance, cheerful, and buoyant in tone. However, all over the Islands the women are more parsimonious than the men; but, as a rule, they are more clever and discerning than the other sex, over whom they exercise great influence. Many of them are very dexterous business women and have made the fortunes of their families. A notable example of this was the late Dona Cornelia Laochanco, of Manila, with whom I was personally acquainted, and who, by her own talent in trading transactions, accumulated considerable wealth. Dona Cornelia (who died in 1899) was the foundress of the system of blending sugar to sample for export, known in Manila as the farderia. In her establishment at San Miguel she had a little tower erected, whence a watchman kept his eye on the weather. When threatening clouds appeared a bell was tolled and the mats were instantly picked up and carried off by her Chinese coolie staff, which she managed with great skill, due, perhaps, to the fact that her three husbands were Chinese.

The Philippine woman makes an excellent general servant in native families; in the same capacity, in European service, she is, as a rule, almost useless, but she is a good nursemaid.

The Filipino has many excellent qualities which go far to make amends for his shortcomings. He is patient and forbearing in the extreme, remarkably sober, plodding, anxious only about providing for his immediate wants, and seldom feels "the canker of ambitious thoughts." In his person and his dwelling he may serve as a pattern of cleanliness to all other races in the tropical East. He has little thought beyond the morrow, and therefore never racks his brains about events of the far future in the political world, the world to come, or any other sphere. He indifferently leaves everything to happen as it may, with surprising resignation. The native, in general, will go without food for many hours at a time without grumbling; and fish, rice, betel-nut, and tobacco are his chief wants. Inebriety is almost unknown, although strong drink (nipa wine) is plentiful.

In common with other races whose lives are almost exclusively passed amid the ever-varying wonders of land and sea, Filipinos rarely express any spontaneous admiration for the beauties of Nature, and seem little sensible to any aspect thereof not directly associated with the human interest of their calling. Few Asiatics, indeed, go into raptures over lovely scenery as Europeans do, nor does "the gorgeous glamour of the Orient" which we speak of so ecstatically strike them as such.

When a European is travelling, he never needs to trouble about where or when his servant gets his food or where he sleeps—he looks after that. When a native travels, he drops in amongst any group of his fellow-countrymen whom he finds having their meal on the roadside, and wherever he happens to be at nightfall, there he lies down to sleep. He is never long in a great dilemma. If his hut is about to fall, he makes it fast with bamboo and rattan-cane. If a vehicle breaks down, a harness snaps, or his canoe leaks or upsets, he always has his remedy at hand. He stoically bears misfortune of all kinds with the greatest indifference, and without the least apparent emotion. Under the eye of his master he is the most tractable of all beings. He never (like the Chinese) insists upon doing things his own way, but tries to do just as he is told, whether it be right or wrong. A native enters one's service as a coachman, but if he be told to paddle a boat, cook a meal, fix a lock, or do any other kind of labour possible to him, he is quite agreeable. He knows the duties of no occupation with efficiency, and he is perfectly willing to be a "jack-of-all-trades." Another good feature is that he rarely, if ever, repudiates a debt, although he may never pay it. So long as he gets his food and fair treatment, and his stipulated wages in advance, he is content to act as a general-utility man; lodging he will find for himself. If not pressed too hard, he will follow his superior like a faithful dog. If treated with kindness, according to European notions, he is lost. The native never looks ahead; if left to himself, he will do all sorts of imprudent things, from sheer want of reflection on the consequences, when, as he puts it, "his head is hot" from excitement due to any cause.

On March 15, 1886, I was coming round the coast of Zambales in a small steamer, in which I was the only saloon passenger. The captain, whom I had known for years, found that one of the cabin servants had been systematically pilfering for some time past. He ordered the steward to cane him, and then told him to go to the upper deck and remain there. He at once walked up the ladder and threw himself into the sea; but the vessel stopped, a boat was lowered, and he was soon picked up. Had he been allowed to reach the shore, he would have become what is known as a remontado and perhaps eventually a brigand, for such is the beginning of many of them.

The thorough-bred native has no idea of organization on a large scale, hence a successful revolution is not possible if confined to his own class unaided by others, such as Creoles and foreigners. He is brave, and fears no consequences when with or against his equals, or if led by his superiors; but a conviction of superiority—moral or physical—in the adversary depresses him. An excess of audacity calms and overawes him rather than irritates him.

His admiration for bravery and perilous boldness is only equalled by his contempt for cowardice and puerility, and this is really the secret of the native's disdain for the Chinese race. Under good European officers he makes an excellent soldier, and would follow a brave leader to death; however, if the leader fell, he would at once become demoralized. There is nothing he delights in more than pillage, destruction, and bloodshed, and when once he becomes master of the situation in an affray, there is no limit to his greed and savage cruelty.

Yet, detesting order of any kind, military discipline is repugnant to him, and, as in other countries where conscription is the law, all kinds of tricks are resorted to to avoid it. On looking over the deeds of an estate which I had purchased, I saw that two brothers, each named Catalino Raymundo, were the owners at one time of a portion of the land. I thought there must have been some mistake, but, on close inquiry, I found that they were so named to dodge the Spanish recruiting officers, who would not readily suppose there were two Catalino Raymundos born of the same parents. As one Catalino Raymundo had served in the army and the other was dead, no further secret was made in the matter, and I was assured that this practice was common among the poorest natives.

In November, 1887, a deserter from the new recruits was pursued to Langca, a ward of Meycauayan, Bulacan Province, where nearly all the inhabitants rose up in his defence, the result being that the Lieutenant of Cuadrilleros was killed and two of his men were wounded. When the Civil Guard appeared on the spot, the whole ward was abandoned.

According to the Spanish army regulations, a soldier cannot be on sentinel duty for more than two hours at a time under any circumstances. Cases have been known of a native sentinel having been left at his post for a little over that regulation time, and to have become phrenetic, under the impression that the two hours had long since expired, and that he had been forgotten. In one case the man had to be disarmed by force, but in another instance the sentinel simply refused to give up his rifle and bayonet, and defied all who approached him. Finally, an officer went with the colours of the regiment in hand to exhort him to surrender his arms, adding that justice would attend his complaint. The sentinel, however, threatened to kill any one who should draw near, and the officer had no other recourse open to him but to order a European soldier to climb up behind the sentry-box and blow out the insubordinate native's brains.

In the seventies, a contingent of Philippine troops was sent to assist the French in Tonquin, where they rendered very valuable service. Indeed, some officers are of opinion that they did more to quell the Tuh Duc rising than the French troops themselves. When in the fray, they throw off their boots, and, barefooted, they rarely falter. Even over mud and swamp, a native is almost as sure-footed as a goat on the brink of a quarry. I have frequently been carried for miles in a hammock by four natives and relays, through morassy districts too dangerous to travel on horseback. They are great adepts at climbing wherever it is possible for a human being to scale a height; like monkeys, they hold as much with their feet as with their hands; they ride any horse barebacked without fear; they are utterly careless about jumping into the sea among the sharks, which sometimes they will intentionally attack with knives, and I never knew a native who could not swim. There are natives who dare dive for the caiman and rip it up. If they meet with an accident, they bear it with supreme resignation, simply exclaiming "desgracia pa"—it was a misfortune.

I can record with pleasure my happy recollection of many a light-hearted, genial, and patient native who accompanied me on my journeys in these Islands. Comparatively very few thorough-bred natives travel beyond their own islands, although there is a constant flow of half-castes to and from the adjacent colonies, Europe, etc.

The native is very slowly tempted to abandon the habits and traditional customs of his forefathers, and his ambitionless felicity may be envied by any true philosopher.

No one who has lived in the Colony for years could sketch the real moral portrait of such a remarkable combination of virtues and vices. The domesticated native's character is a succession of surprises. The experience of each year modifies one's conclusions, and the most exact definition of such an inscrutable being is, after all, hypothetical. However, to a certain degree, the characteristic indolence of these Islanders is less dependent on themselves than on natural law, for the physical conditions surrounding them undoubtedly tend to arrest their vigour of motion, energy of life, and intellectual power.

The organic elements of the European differ widely from those of the Philippine native, and each, for his own durability, requires his own special environment. The half-breed partakes of both organisms, but has the natural environment of the one. Sometimes artificial means—the mode of life into which he is forced by his European parent—will counteract in a measure natural law, but, left to himself, the tendency will ever be towards an assimilation to the native. Original national characteristics disappear in an exotic climate, and, in the course of time, conform to the new laws of nature to which they are exposed.

It is an ascertained fact that the increase of energy introduced into the Philippine native by blood mixture from Europe lasts only to the second generation, whilst the effect remains for several generations when there is a similarity of natural surroundings in the two races crossed. Moreover, the peculiar physique of a Chinese or Japanese progenitor is preserved in succeeding generations, long after the Spanish descendant has merged into the conditions of his environment.

The Spanish Government strove in vain against natural law to counteract physical conditions by favouring mixed marriages, [79] but Nature overcomes man's law, and climatic influence forces its conditions on the half-breed. Indeed, were it not for new supplies of extraneous blood infusion, European characteristics would, in time, become indiscernible among the masses. Even on Europeans themselves, in defiance of their own volition, the new physical conditions and the influence of climate on their mental and physical organisms are perceptible after two or three decades of years' residence in the mid-tropics.

All the natives of the domesticated type have distinct Malay, or Malay-Japanese, or Mongol features—prominent cheek-bones, large and lively eyes, and flat noses with dilated nostrils. They are, on the average, of rather low stature, very rarely bearded, and of a copper colour more or less dark. Most of the women have no distinct line of hair on the forehead. Some there are with a frontal hairy down extending to within an inch of the eyes, possibly a reversion to a progenitor (the Macacus radiata) in whom the forehead had not become quite naked, leaving the limit between the scalp and the forehead undefined. The hair of both males and females stands out from the skin like bristles, and is very coarse. The coarseness of the female's hair is, however, more than compensated by its luxuriance; for, provided she be in a normal state of health, up to the prime of life the hair commonly reaches down to the waist, and occasionally to the ankles. The women are naturally proud of this mark of beauty, which they preserved by frequent washings with gogo (q.v.) and the use of cocoanut oil (q.v.). Hare-lip is common. Children, from their birth, have a spot at the base of the vertebrae, thereby supporting the theory of Professor Huxley's Anthropidae sub-order—or man (vide Professor Huxley's "An Introduction to the Classification of Animals," p. 99. Published 1869).



Marriages between natives are usually arranged by the parents of the respective families. The nubile age of females is from about 11 years. The parents of the young man visit those of the maiden, to approach the subject delicately in an oratorical style of allegory. The response is in like manner shrouded with mystery, and the veil is only thrown off the negotiations when it becomes evident that both parties agree. Among the poorer classes, if the young man has no goods to offer, it is frequently stipulated that he shall serve on probation for an indefinite period in the house of his future bride,—as Jacob served Laban to make Rachel his wife,—and not a few drudge for years with this hope before them.

Sometimes, in order to secure service gratis, the elders of the young woman will suddenly dismiss the young man after a prolonged expectation, and take another Catipad. as he is called, on the same terms. The old colonial legislation—"Leyes de Indias"—in vain prohibited this barbarous ancient custom, and there was a modern Spanish law (of which few availed themselves) which permitted the intended bride to be "deposited" away from parental custody, whilst the parents were called upon to show cause why the union should not take place. However, it often happens that when Cupid has already shot his arrow into the virginal breast, and the betrothed foresee a determined opposition to their mutual hopes, they anticipate the privileges of matrimony, and compel the bride's parents to countenance their legitimate aspirations to save the honour of the family. Honi soit qui mal y pense—they simply force the hand of a dictatorial mother-in-law. The women are notably mercenary, and if, on the part of the girl and her people, there be a hitch, it is generally on the question of dollars when both parties are native. Of course, if the suitor be European, no such question is raised—the ambition of the family and the vanity of the girl being both satisfied by the alliance itself.

When the proposed espousals are accepted, the donations propter nuptias are paid by the father of the bridegroom to defray the wedding expenses, and often a dowry settlement, called in Tagalog dialect "bigaycaya" is made in favour of the bride. Very rarely the bride's property is settled on the husband. I never heard of such a case. The Spanish laws relating to married persons' property were quaint. If the husband were poor and the wife well-off, so they might remain, notwithstanding the marriage. He, as a rule, became a simple administrator of her possessions, and, if honest, often depended on her liberality to supply his own necessities. If he became bankrupt in a business in which he employed also her capital or possessions, she ranked as a creditor of the second class under the "Commercial Code." If she died, the poor husband, under no circumstances, by legal right (unless under a deed signed before a notary) derived any benefit from the fact of his having espoused a rich wife: her property passed to their legitimate issue, or—in default thereof—to her nearest blood relation. The children might be rich, and, but for their generosity, their father might be destitute, whilst the law compelled him to render a strict account to them of the administration of their property during their minority. This fact has given rise to many lawsuits.

A married woman often signs her maiden name, sometimes adding "de ——" (her husband's surname). If she survives him, she again takes up her nomen ante nuptias amongst her old circle of friends, and only adds "widow of ——" to show who she is to the public (if she be in trade), or to those who have only known her as a married woman. The offspring use both the parental surnames, the mother's coming after the father's; hence it is the more prominent. Frequently, in Spanish documents requiring the mention of a person's name in full, the mother's maiden surname is revived.

Thus marriage, as I understand the spirit of the Spanish law, seems to be a simple contract to legitimize and license procreation.

Up to the year 1844, only a minority of the christian natives had distinctive family names. They were, before that date, known by certain harsh ejaculations, and classification of families was uncared for among the majority of the population. Therefore, in that year, a list of Spanish surnames was sent to each parish priest, and every native family had to adopt a separate appellation, which has ever since been perpetuated. Hence one meets natives bearing illustrious names such as Juan Salcedo, Juan de Austria, Rianzares, Ramon de Cabrera, Pio Nono Lopez, and a great many Legaspis.

When a wedding among natives was determined upon, the betrothed went to the priest—not necessarily together—kissed his hand, and informed him of their intention. There was a tariff of marriage fees, but the priest usually set this aside, and fixed his charges according to the resources of the parties. This abuse of power could hardly be resisted, as the natives have a radicate aversion to being married elsewhere than in the village of the bride. The priest, too (not the bride), usually had the privilege of "naming the day." The fees demanded were sometimes enormous, the common result being that many couples merely cohabited under mutual vows because they could not pay the wedding expenses.

The banns were verbally published after the benediction following the conclusion of the Mass. In the evening, prior to the marriage, it was compulsory on the couple to confess and obtain absolution from the priest. The nuptials almost invariably took place after the first Mass, between five and six in the morning, and those couples who were spiritually prepared first presented themselves for Communion. Then an acolyte placed over the shoulders of the bridal pair a thick mantle or pall. The priest recited a short formula of about five minutes' duration, put his interrogations, received the muttered responses, and all was over. To the espoused, as they left the church, was tendered a bowl of coin; the bridegroom passed a handful of the contents to the bride, who accepted it and returned it to the bowl. This act was symbolical of his giving to her his worldly goods. Then they left the church with their friends, preserving that solemn, stoical countenance common to all Malay natives. There was no visible sign of emotion as they all walked off, with the most matter-of-fact indifference, to the paternal abode. This was the custom under the Spaniards, and it still largely obtains; the Revolution decreed civil marriage, which the Americans have declared lawful, but not compulsory.

After the marriage ceremony the feast called the Catapusan [80] begins. To this the vicar and headmen of the villages, the immediate friends and relatives of the allied families, and any Europeans who may happen to be resident or sojourning, are invited. The table is spread, a la Russe, with all the good things procurable served at the same time—sweetmeats predominating. Imported beer, Dutch gin, chocolate, etc., are also in abundance. After the early repast, both men and women are constantly being offered betel-nut to masticate, and cigars or cigarettes, according to choice.

Meanwhile, the company is entertained by native dancers. Two at a time—a young man and woman—stand vis-a-vis and alternately sing a love ditty, the burthen of the theme usually opening by the regret of the young man that his amorous overtures have been disregarded. Explanations follow, in the poetic dialogue, as the parties dance around each other, keeping a slow step to the plaintive strains of music. This is called the Balitao. It is most popular in Visayas.

Another dance is performed by a young woman only. If well executed it is extremely graceful. The girl begins singing a few words in an ordinary tone, when her voice gradually drops to the diminuendo, whilst her slow gesticulations and the declining vigour of the music together express her forlornness. Then a ray of joy seems momentarily to lighten her mental anguish; the spirited crescendo notes gently return; the tone of the melody swells; her measured step and action energetically quicken—until she lapses again into resigned sorrow, and so on alternately. Coy in repulse, and languid in surrender, the danseuse in the end forsakes her sentiment of melancholy for elated passion.

The native dances are numerous. Another of the most typical, is that of a girl writhing and dancing a pas seul with a glass of water on her head. This is known as the Comitan.

When Europeans are present, the bride usually retires into the kitchen or a back room, and only puts in an appearance after repeated requests. The conversation rarely turns upon the event of the meeting; there is not the slightest outward manifestation of affection between the newly-united couple, who, during the feast, are only seen together by mere accident. If there are European guests, the repast is served three times—firstly for the Europeans and headmen, secondly for the males of less social dignity, and lastly for the women. Neither at the table nor in the reception-room do the men and women mingle, except for perhaps the first quarter of an hour after the arrival, or whilst dancing continues.

About an hour after the mid-day meal, those who are not lodging at the house return to their respective residences to sleep the siesta. On an occasion like this—at a Catapusan given for any reason—native outsiders, from anywhere, always invade the kitchen in a mob, lounge around doorways, fill up corners, and drop in for the feast uninvited, and it is usual to be liberally complaisant to all comers.

As a rule, the married couple live with the parents of one or the other, at least until the family inconveniently increases. In old age, the elder members of the families come under the protection of the younger ones quite as a matter of course. In any case, a newly-married pair seldom reside alone. Relations from all parts flock in. Cousins, uncles and aunts, of more or less distant grade, hang on to the recently-established household, if it be not extremely poor. Even when a European marries a native woman, she is certain to introduce some vagabond relation—a drone to hive with the bees—a condition quite inevitable, unless the husband be a man of specially determined character.

Death at childbirth is very common, and it is said that 25 per cent. of the new-born children die within a month.

Among the lowest classes, whilst a woman is lying-in, the husband closes all the windows to prevent the evil spirit (asuan) entering; sometimes he will wave about a stick or bowie-knife at the door, or on top of the roof, for the same purpose. Even among the most enlightened, at the present day, the custom of shutting the windows is inherited from their superstitious forefathers, probably in ignorance of the origin of this usage.

In Spanish times it was considered rather an honour than otherwise to have children by a priest, and little secret was made of it.

In October, 1888, I was in a village near Manila, at the bedside of a sick friend, when the curate entered. He excused himself for not having called earlier, by explaining that "Turing" had sent him a message informing him that as the vicar (a native) had gone to Manila, he might take charge of the church and parish. "Is 'Turing' an assistant curate?" I inquired. My friend and the pastor were so convulsed with laughter at the idea, that it was quite five minutes before they could explain that the intimation respecting the parochial business emanated from the absent vicar's bonne amie.

Consanguine marriages are very common, and perhaps this accounts for the low intellect and mental debility perceptible in many families.

Poor parents offer their girls to Europeans for a loan of money, and they are admitted under the pseudonym of sempstress or housekeeper. Natives among themselves do not kiss—they smell each other, or rather, they place the nose and lip on the cheek and draw a long breath.

Marriages between Spaniards and pure native women, although less frequent than formerly, still take place. Since 1899 many Americans, too, have taken pure native wives. It is difficult to apprehend an alliance so incongruous, there being no affinity of ideas, the only condition in common being, that they are both human beings professing Christianity. The husband is either drawn towards the level of the native by this heterogeneous relationship, or, in despair of remedying the error of a passing passion, he practically ignores his wife in his own social connections. Each forms then a distinct circle of friends of his, or her, own selection, whilst the woman is but slightly raised above her own class by the white man's influence and contact. There are some exceptions, but I have most frequently observed in the houses of Europeans married to native women in the provinces, that the wives make the kitchen their chief abode, and are only seen by the visitor when some domestic duty requires them to move about the house. Familiarity breeds contempt, and these mesalliances diminish the dignity of the superior race by reducing the birth-origin of both parents to a common level in their children.

The Spanish half-breeds and Creoles constitute a very influential body. A great number of them are established in trade in Manila and the provinces. Due to their European descent, more or less distant, they are of quicker perception, greater tact, and gifted with wider intellectual faculties than the pure Oriental class. Also, the Chinese half-breeds,—a caste of Chinese fathers and Philippine mothers,—who form about one-sixth of the Manila population, are shrewder than the natives of pure extraction, their striking characteristic being distrust and suspicion of another's intentions. It is a curious fact that the Chinese half-caste speaks with as much contempt of the Chinaman as the thorough-bred Filipino does, and would fain hide his paternal descent. There are numbers of Spanish half-breeds fairly well educated, and just a few of them very talented. Many of them have succeeded in making pretty considerable fortunes in their negotiations, as middlemen, between the provincial natives and the European commercial houses. Their true social position is often an equivocal one, and the complex question has constantly to be confronted whether to regard a Spanish demi-sang from a native or European standpoint. Among themselves they are continually struggling to attain the respect and consideration accorded to the superior class, whilst their connexions and purely native relations link them to the other side. In this perplexing mental condition, we find them on the one hand striving in vain to disown their affinity to the inferior races, and on the other hand, jealous of their true-born European acquaintances. A morosity of disposition is the natural outcome. Their character generally is evasive and vacillating. They are captious, fond of litigation, and constantly seeking subterfuges. They appear always dissatisfied with their lot in life, and inclined to foster grievances against whoever may be in office over them. Pretentious in the extreme, they are fond of pomp and paltry show, and it is difficult to trace any popular movement, for good or for evil, without discovering a half-breed initiator, or leader, of one caste or another. They are locally denominated Mestizos.

The Jesuit Father, Pedro Murillo Velarde, at p. 272 of his work on this Colony, expressed his opinion of the political-economical result of mixed marriages to the following effect:—"Now," he says, "we have a querulous, discontented population of half-castes, who, sooner or later, will bring about a distracted state of society, and occupy the whole force of the Government to stamp out the discord." How far the prophecy was fulfilled will be seen in another chapter.



Being naturally prone to superstitious beliefs, the Islanders accepted, without doubting, all the fantastic tales which the early missionaries taught them. Miraculous crosses healed the sick, cured the plague, and scared away the locusts. Images, such as the Holy Child of Bangi, relieved them of all worldly sufferings. To this day they revere many of these objects, which are still preserved.

The most ancient miraculous image in these Islands appears to be the Santo Nino de Cebu—the Holy Child of Cebu. It is recorded that on July 28, 1565, an image of the Child Jesus was found on Cebu Island shore by a Basque soldier named Juan de Camus. It was venerated and kept by the Austin friars. Irreverent persons have alleged it was a pagan idol. Against this, it may be argued that the heathen Cebuanos were not known to have been idolaters. In 1627 a fire occurred in Cebu city, when the Churches of Saint Nicholas and of the Holy Child were burnt down. The image was saved, and temporarily placed in charge of the Recoleto friars. A fire also took place on the site of the first cross erected on the island by Father Martin de Rada, the day Legaspi landed, and it is said that this cross, although made of bamboo, was not consumed. There now stands an Oratory, wherein on special occasions is exposed the original cross. Close by is the modern Church of the Holy Child.

In June, 1887, the Prior of the convent conducted me to the strong-room where the wonderful image is kept. The Saint is of wood, about fifteen inches high, and laden with silver trinkets, which have been presented on different occasions. When exposed to public view, it has the honours of field-marshal accorded to it. It is a mystic deity with ebon features—so different from the lovely Child presented to us on canvas by the great masters! During the feast held in its honour (January 20), pilgrims from the remotest districts of the island and from across the seas come to purify their souls at the shrine of "The Holy Child." In the same room was a beautiful image of the Madonna, besides two large tin boxes containing sundry arms, legs, and heads of Saints, with their robes in readiness for adjustment on procession days. The patron of Cebu City is Saint Vidal.

The legend of the celestial protector of Manila is not less interesting. It is related that in Dilao (now called Paco), near Manila, a wooden image of Saint Francis de Assisi, which was in the house of a native named Alonso Cuyapit, was seen to weep so copiously that many cloths were moistened by its tears. The image, with its hands outspread during three hours, invoked God's blessing on Manila. And then, on closing its hands, it grasped a cross and skull. Vows were made to the Saint, who was declared protector of the capital, and the same image is now to be seen in the Franciscan Church, under the appellation of San Francisco de las lagrimas—"Saint Francis of Tears."

Up to the seventies of last century, a disgusting spectacle used to be annually witnessed at the Church of San Miguel (Manila) on December 8; it was a realistic representation of the Immaculate Conception!

"Our Lady of Cagsaysay," near Taal (Batangas), has been revered for many years both by Europeans and natives. So enthusiastic was the belief in the miraculous power of this image, that the galleons, when passing the Batangas coast on their way to and from Mexico, were accustomed to fire a salute from their guns (vide pp. 18, 19). This image was picked up by a native in his fishing-net, and he placed it in a cave, where it was discovered by other natives, who imagined they saw many extraordinary lights around it. According to the local legend, they heard sweet sonorous music proceeding from the same spot, and the image came forward and spoke to a native woman, who had brought her companions to adore the Saint.

The history of the many shrines all over the Colony would well fill a volume; however, by far the most popular one is that of the Virgin of Antipolo—Nuestra Senora de Buen Viaje y de la Paz, "Our Lady of Good Voyage and Peace."

This image is said to have wrought many miracles. It was first brought from Acapulco (Mexico) in 1626 in the State galleon, by Juan Nino de Tabora, who was appointed Gov.-General of these Islands (1626-32) by King Philip IV. The Saint, it is alleged, had encountered numberless reverses between that time and the year 1672, since which date it has been safely lodged in the Parish Church of Antipolo—a village in the old Military District of Morong (Rizal Province)—in the custody of the Austin friars. In the month of May, thousands of people repair to this shrine; indeed, this village of 3,800 inhabitants (diminished to 2,800 in 1903) chiefly depends upon the pilgrims for its existence, for the land within the jurisdiction of Antipolo is all mountainous and very limited in extent. The priests also do a very good trade in prints of Saints, rosaries, etc., for the sale of which, in Spanish times, they used to open a shop during the feast inside and just in front of the convent entrance. The total amount of money spent in the village by visitors during the pilgrimage has been roughly computed to be P30,000. They come from all parts of the Islands.

The legends of the Saint are best described in a pamphlet published in Manila, [81] from which I take the following information.

The writer says that the people of Acapulco (Mexico) were loth to part with their Holy Image, but the saintly Virgin herself, desirous of succouring the inhabitants of the Spanish Indies, smoothed all difficulties. During her first voyage, in the month of March, 1626, a tempest arose, which was calmed by the Virgin, and all arrived safely in the galleon at the shores of Manila. She was then carried in procession to the Cathedral, whilst the church bells tolled and the artillery thundered forth salutes of welcome. A solemn Mass was celebrated, which all the religious communities, civil authorities, and a multitude of people attended.

Six years afterwards the Gov.-General Juan Nino de Tabora died. By his will he intrusted the Virgin to the care of the Jesuits, whilst a church was being built under the direction of Father Juan Salazar for her special reception. During the erection of this church, the Virgin often descended from the altar and exhibited herself amongst the flowery branches of a tree, called by the natives Antipolo (Artocarpus incisa). The tree itself was thenceforth regarded as a precious relic by the natives, who, leaf by leaf and branch by branch, were gradually carrying it off. Then Father Salazar decreed that the tree-trunk should serve for a pedestal to the Divine Miraculous Image—hence the title "Virgin of Antipolo."

In 1639 the Chinese rebelled against the Spanish authority (vide p. 115). In their furious march through the ruins and the blood of their victims, and amidst the wailing of the crowd, they attacked the Sanctuary wherein reposed the Virgin. Seizing the Holy Image, they cast it into the flames, and when all around was reduced to ashes, there stood the Virgin of Antipolo, resplendent, with her hair, her lace, her ribbons and adornments intact, and her beautiful body of brass without wound or blemish! Passionate at seeing frustrated their designs to destroy the deified protectress of the Christians, a wanton infidel stabbed her in the face, and all the resources of art have ever failed to heal the lasting wound. Again the Virgin was enveloped in flames, which hid the appalling sight of her burning entrails. Now the Spanish troops arrived, and fell upon the heretical marauders with great slaughter; then, glancing with trembling anxiety upon the scene of the outrage, behold! with glad astonishment they descried the Holy Image upon a smouldering pile of ashes—unhurt! With renewed enthusiasm, the Spanish warriors bore away the Virgin on their shoulders in triumph, and Sebastian Hurtado de Corcuera, the Gov.-General at the time, had her conveyed to Cavite to be the patroness of the faithful upon the high seas.

A galleon arrived at Cavite, and being unable to go into port, the commander anchored off at a distance. Then the new Gov.-General, Diego Fajardo (1644-53), sent the Virgin on board, and, by her help, a passage was found for the vessel to enter.

Later on, twelve Dutch warships appeared off Mariveles, the northwestern extremity of Manila Bay. They had come to attack Cavite, and in their hour of danger the Spaniards appealed to the Virgin, who gave them a complete victory over the Dutchmen, causing them to flee, with their commander mortally wounded. During the affray, the Virgin had been taken away for safety on board the San Diego, commanded by Cepeda. In 1650 this vessel returned, and the pious prelate, Jose Millan Poblete, [82] thought he perceived clear indications of an eager desire on the part of the Virgin to retire to her Sanctuary. The people, too, clamoured for the Saint, attributing the many calamities with which they were afflicted at that period to her absence from their shores. Assailed by enemies, frequently threatened by the Dutch, lamenting the loss of several galleons, and distressed by a serious earthquake, their only hope reposed in the beneficent aid of the Virgin of Antipolo.

But the galleon San Francisco Xavier feared to make the journey to Mexico without the saintly support, and for the sixth time the Virgin crossed the Pacific Ocean. In Acapulco the galleon lay at anchor until March, 1653, when the newly-appointed Gov.-General, Sabiniano Manrique de Lara, Archbishop Miguel Poblete, Father Rodrigo Cardenas, Bishop-elect of Cagayan, and many other passengers embarked and set sail for Manila. Their sufferings during the voyage were horrible. Almost overcome by a violent storm, the ship became unmanageable. Rain poured in torrents, whilst her decks were washed by the surging waves, and all was on the point of utter destruction. In this plight the Virgin was exhorted, and not in vain, for at her command the sea lessened its fury, the wind calmed, black threatening clouds dispersed, all the terrors of the voyage ceased, and under a beautiful blue sky a fair wind wafted the galleon safely to the port of Cavite.

These circumstances gained for the Saint the title of "Virgin of Good Voyage and Peace"; and the sailors,—who gratefully acknowledged that their lives were saved by her sublime intercession,—followed by the ecclesiastical dignitaries and military chiefs, carried the image to her retreat in Antipolo (September 8, 1653), where it was intended she should permanently remain. However, deprived of the succour of the Saint, misfortunes again overtook the galleons. Three of them were lost, and the writer of the brochure to which I refer supposes (Chap. iv.) that perchance the sea, suffering from the number of furrows cut by the keels of the ships, had determined to take a fierce revenge by swallowing them up!

Once more, therefore, the Virgin condescended to accompany a galleon to Mexico, bringing her back safely to Philippine shores in 1672.

This was the Virgin's last sea voyage. Again, and for ever, she was conveyed by the joyous multitude to her resting-place in Antipolo Church, and on her journey thither, there was not a flower, adds the chronicler, which did not greet her by opening a bud—not a mountain pigeon which remained in silence, whilst the breezes and the rivulets poured forth their silent murmurings of ecstasy. Saintly guardian of the soul, dispersing mundane evils!—no colours, the chronicler tells us, can paint the animation of the faithful; no discourse can describe the consolation of the pilgrims in their adoration at the Shrine of the Holy Virgin of Antipolo.

Yet the village of Antipolo and its neighbourhood was, in Spanish times, the centre of brigandage, the resort of murderous highwaymen, the focus of crime. What a strange contrast to the sublime virtues of the immortal divinity enclosed within its Sanctuary!

On November 26, 1904, this miraculous Image was temporarily removed from Antipolo to Manila for the celebration of the feast of the Immaculate Conception. Carried by willing hands to the place of embarkation, it made the voyage to the capital, down the Pasig River, in a gorgeously decorated barge, towed by a steam launch, escorted by hundreds of floating craft and over 20,000 natives, marching along the river banks in respectful accompaniment. The next day a procession of about 35,000 persons followed the Virgin to the Cathedral of Manila, where she was enshrined, awaiting the great event of December 8. Subsequently she was restored to her shrine at Antipolo.



The most lucrative undertaking in the Colony is that of a shrine. It yields all gain, without possible loss. Among the most popular of these "Miraculous Saint Shows" was that of Gusi, belonging to the late parish priest of Ilug, in Negros Island. At Gusi, half an hour's walk from the Father's parish church, was enthroned San Joaquin, who, for a small consideration, consoled the faithful or relieved them of iheir sufferings. His spouse, Santa Ana, having taken up her residence in the town of Molo (Yloilo Province), was said to have been visited by San Joaquin once a year. He was absent on the journey at least a fortnight, but the waters in the neighbourhood of the Shrine being sanctified the clientele was not dispersed. Some sceptics have dared to doubt whether San Joaquin really paid this visit to his saintly wife, and alleged that his absence was feigned, firstly to make his presence longed for, and secondly to remove the cobwebs from his hallowed brow, and give him a wash and brush up for the year. The Shrine paid well for years—every devotee leaving his mite. At the time of my pilgrimage there, the holy Father's son was the petty-governor of the same town of Ilug.

Shrine-owners are apparently no friends of free trade. In 1888 there was a great commotion amongst them when it was discovered that a would-be competitor and a gownsman had conspired, in Pampanga Province, to establish a Miraculous Saint, by concealing an image in a field in order that it should "make itself manifest to the faithful," and thenceforth become a source of income.

It is notorious that in a church near Manila, a few years ago, an image was made to move the parts of its body as the reverend preacher exhorted it in the course of his sermon. When he appealed to the Saint, it wagged its head or extended its arms, whilst the female audience wept and wailed. Such a scandalous disturbance did it provoke that the exhibition was even too monstrous for the clergy themselves, and the Archbishop prohibited it. But religion has many wealth-producing branches. In January, 1889, a friend of mine showed me an account rendered by the Superior of the Jesuits' School for the education of his sons, each of whom was charged with one peso as a gratuity to the Pope, to induce him to canonize a deceased member of their Order. I have been most positively assured by friends, whose good faith I ought not to doubt, that San Pascual Bailon really has, on many occasions, had compassion on barren women (their friends) and given them offspring. Jose Rizal, in his "Noli me tangere" hints that the real Pascual was a friar.

Trading upon the credulity of devout enthusiasts by fetishism and shrine quackery is not altogether confined to the ecclesiastics. A Spanish layman in Yloilo, some few years ago, when he was an official of the prison, known as the "Cotta," conceived the idea of declaring that the Blessed Virgin and Child Jesus had appeared in the prison well, where they took a bath and disappeared. When, at length, the belief became popular, hundreds of natives went there to get water from the well, and the official imposed a tax on the pilgrims, whereby he became possessed of a modest fortune, and owned two of the best houses in the Square of Yloilo.

The Feast of Tigbauang (near Yloilo), which takes place in January, is also much frequented on account of the miracles performed by the patron Saint of the town. The faith in the power of this minor divinity to dispel bodily suffering is so deeply rooted that members of the most enlightened families of Yloilo and the neighbouring towns go to Tigbauang simply to attend High Mass, and return at once. I have seen steamers entering Yloilo from this feast so crowded with passengers that there was only standing room for them.

An opprobrious form of religious imposture—perhaps the most contemptible—which frequently offended the public eye, before the American advent, was the practice of prowling about with doll-saints in the streets and public highways. A vagrant, too lazy to earn an honest subsistence, procured a licence from the monks to hawk about a wooden box containing a doll or print covered by a pane of glass. This he offered to hold before the nose of any ignorant passer-by who was willing to pay for the boon of kissing the glass!

During Holy Week, a few years ago, the captain of the Civil Guard in Tayabas Province went to the town of Atimonan, and saw natives in the streets almost in a state of nudity doing penance "for the wounds of Our Lord." They were actually beating themselves with flails, some of which were made of iron chain, and others of rope with thongs of rattan-cane. Having confiscated the flails—one of which he gave to me—he effectually assisted the fanatics in their penitent castigation. Alas! to what excesses will faith, unrestrained by reason, bring one!

The result of tuition in mystic influences is sometimes manifested in the appearance of native Santones—indolent scamps who roam about in remote villages, feigning the possession of supernatural gifts, the faculty of saving souls, and the healing art, with the object of living at the expense of the ignorant. I never happened to meet more than one of these creatures—an escaped convict named Apolonio, a native of Cabuyao (Laguna), who, assuming the character of a prophet and worker of miracles, had fled to the neighbourhood of San Pablo village. I have often heard of them in other places, notably in Capis Province, where the Santones were vigorously pursued by the Civil Guard, and as recently as May, 1904, a notorious humbug of this class, styling himself Pope Isio, alias Nazarenong Gala, was arrested in West Negros and punished under American authority.

The Spanish clergy were justifiably zealous in guarding the Filipinos from a knowledge of other doctrines which would only lead them to immeasurable bewilderment. Hence all the civilized natives were Roman Catholics exclusively. The strict obedience to one system of Christianity, even in its grossly perverted form, had the effect desired by the State, of bringing about social unity to an advanced degree. Yet, so far as I have observed, the native seems to understand extremely little of the "inward and spiritual grace" of religion. He is so material and realistic, so devoid of all conception of things abstract, that his ideas rarely, if ever, soar beyond the contemplation of the "outward and visible signs" of christian belief. The symbols of faith and the observance of religious rites are to him religion itself. He also confounds morality with religion. Natives go to church because it is the custom. Often if a native cannot put on a clean shirt, he abstains from going to Mass. The petty-governor of a town was compelled to go to High Mass accompanied by his "ministry." In some towns the Barangay Chiefs were fined or beaten if they were absent from church on Sundays and certain Feast Days. [83]

As to the women, little or no pressure was necessary to oblige them to attend Mass; many of them pass half their existence between private devotion and the confessional.

The parish priest of Lipa (Batangas) related to a friend of mine that having on one occasion distributed all his stock of pictures of the Saints to those who had come to see him on parochial business, he had to content the last suppliant with an empty raisin-box, without noticing that on the lid there was a coloured print of Garibaldi. Later on Garibaldi's portrait was seen in a hut in one of the suburbs with candles around it, being adored as a Saint.

A curious case of native religious philosophy was reported in a Manila newspaper. [84] A milkman, accused by one of his customers of having adulterated the milk, of course denied it at first, and then, yielding to more potent argument than words, he confessed that he had diluted the milk with holy water from the church fonts, for at the same time that he committed the sin he was penitent.

Undoubtedly Roman Catholicism appears to be the form of Christianity most successful in proselytizing uncivilized races, which are impressed more through their eyes than their understanding. If the grandeur of the ritual, the magnificence of the processions, the lustre of the church vessels and the images themselves have never been understood by the masses in the strictly symbolic sense in which they appeal to us, at least they have had their influence in drawing millions to civilization and to a unique uniformity of precept, the practice of which it is beyond all human power to control.



For Music the native has an inherent passion. Musicians are to be found in every village, and even among the very poorest classes. Before the Revolution there was scarcely a parish, however remote, without its orchestra, and this natural taste was laudably encouraged by the priests. Some of these bands acquired great local fame, and were sought for wherever there was a feast miles away. The players seemed to enjoy it as much as the listeners, and they would keep at it for hours at a time, as long as their bodily strength lasted. Girls from six years of age learn to play the harp almost by instinct, and college girls quickly learn the piano. There are no native composers—they are but imitators. There is an absence of sentimental feeling in the execution of set music (which is all foreign), and this is the only drawback to their becoming fine instrumentalists. For the same reason, classical music is very little in vogue among the Philippine people, who prefer dance pieces and ballad accompaniments. In fact, a native musical performance is so void of soul and true conception of harmony that at a feast it is not an uncommon thing to hear three bands playing close to each other at the same time; and the mob assembled seem to enjoy the confusion of the melody! There are no Philippine vocalists worth hearing.

Travelling through the Laguna Province in 1882 I was impressed by the ingenuity of the natives in their imitation of European musical instruments. Just an hour before I had emerged from a dense forest, abundantly adorned with exquisite foliage, and where majestic trees, flourishing in gorgeous profusion, afforded a gratifying shelter from the scorching sun. Not a sound was heard but the gentle ripple of a limpid stream, breaking over the boulders on its course towards the ravine below. But it was hardly the moment to ponder on the poetic scene, for fatigue and hunger had almost overcome sentimentality, and I got as quickly as I could to the first resting-place. This I found to be a native cane-grower's plantation bungalow, where quite a number of persons was assembled, the occasion of the meeting being the baptism and benediction of the sugar-cane mill. Before I was near enough, however, to be seen by the party—for it was nearly sunset—I heard the sound of distant music floating through the air. Such a strange occurrence excited my curiosity immensely, and I determined to find out what it all meant. I soon discovered that it was a bamboo band returning from the feast of the "baptism of the mill." Each instrument was made of bamboo on a semi-European model, and the players were merely farm-labourers.

Philippine musicians have won fame outside their own country. Some years ago there was a band of them in Shanghai and another in Cochin China on contract. It was reported, too, that the band of the Constabulary sent to the St. Louis Exhibition in 1904 was the delight of the people in Honolulu, where they touched en route.



Slavery was prohibited by law as far back as the reign of Philip II.; [85] it nevertheless still exists in an occult form among the natives. Rarely, if ever, do its victims appeal to the law for redress, firstly, because of their ignorance, and secondly, because the untutored class have an innate horror of resisting anciently-established custom, and it would never occur to them to do so. Moreover, in the time of the Spaniards, the numberless procuradores and pica-pleitos—touting solicitors had no interest in taking up cases so profitless to themselves. Under the pretext of guaranteeing a loan, parents readily sell their children (male or female) into bondage. The child is handed over to work until the loan is repaid; but as the day of restitution of the advance never arrives, neither does the liberty of the youthful victim. Among themselves it was a law, and is still a practised custom, for the debts of the parents to pass on to the children, and, as I have said before, debts are never repudiated by them. Slavery, in an overt form, now only exists among some wild tribes and the Moros.



Education was almost exclusively under the control of the friars. Up to the year 1844 anything beyond religious tuition was reserved for the Spanish youth, the half-castes, and the children of those in office. Among the many reforms introduced in the time of Gov.-General Narciso Claveria (1844-49), that of extending Education to the provincial parishes was a failure. In the middle of the reign of Isabella II. (about 1850) it was the exclusive privilege of the classes mentioned and the native petty aristocracy, locally designated the gente ilustrada and the pudientes (Intellectuals and people of means and influence). Education, thus limited, divided the people into two separate castes, as distinct as the ancient Roman citizen and the plebeian. Residing chiefly in the ports open to foreign trade, the Intellectuals acquired wealth, possessed rich estates and fine houses artistically adorned. Blessed with all the comforts which money could procure and the refinement resulting from education, they freely associated and intermarried with the Spaniards, whose easy grace and dignified manners they gradually acquired and retain, to a great extent, to the present day. The other caste—the Illiterates—were dependents of the Intellectuals. Without mental training, with few wants, and little expenses, they were as contented, in their sphere, as the upper class were in theirs. Like their masters, they had their hopes, but they never knew what misery was, as one understands it in Europe, and in this felicitous, ambitionless condition, they never urgently demanded education, even for their children. The movement came from higher quarters, and during the O'Donnell ministry a Royal Decree was sent from Madrid establishing schools throughout the provinces.

On the banks of the Pasig River there was a training college for schoolmasters, who were drafted off to the villages with a miserable stipend, to teach the juvenile rustics. But the governmental system of centralization fell somewhat hard on the village teacher. For instance, I knew one who received a monthly salary of 16 pesos, and every month he had to spend two of them to travel to Manila and back to receive the money—an outlay equal to 12 1/2 per cent. of his total income. For such a wretched pittance great things were not to be expected of the teacher, even though he had had a free hand in his work. Other circumstances of greater weight contributed to keep the standard of education among the common townfolk very low; in some places to abolish it totally. The parish priests were ex-officio Inspectors of Schools for primary instruction, wherein it was their duty to see that the Spanish language was taught. The old "Laws of the Indies" provided that christian doctrine should be taught to the heathen native in Spanish. [86] Several decrees confirming that law were issued from time to time, but their fulfilment did not seem to suit the policy of the friars. On June 30, 1887, the Gov.-General published another decree with the same object, and sent a communication to the Archbishop to remind him of this obligation of his subordinates, and the urgency of its strict observance. But it had no effect whatever, and the poor-class villagers were only taught to gabble off the christian doctrine by rote, for it suited the friar to stimulate that peculiar mental condition in which belief precedes understanding. The school-teacher, being subordinate to the inspector, had no voice in the matter, and was compelled to follow the views of the priest. Few Spaniards took the trouble to learn native dialects (of which there are about 30), and only a small percentage of the natives can speak intelligible Spanish. There is no literature in dialect; the few odd compositions in Tagalog still extant are wanting in the first principles of literary style. There were many villages with untrained teachers who could not speak Spanish; there were other villages with no schools at all, hence no preparation whatever for municipal life.

If the friars had agreed to the instruction of the townfolk through the medium of Spanish, as a means to the attainment of higher culture, one could well have understood their reluctance to teach it to the rural labourers, because it is obvious to any one who knows the character of this class that the knowledge of a foreign language would unfit them for agricultural labour and the lower occupations, and produce a new social problem. Even this class, however, might have been mentally improved by elementary books translated into dialect. But, unfortunately, the friars were altogether opposed to the education of the masses, whether through dialect or Spanish, in order to hold them in ignorant subjection to their own will, and the result was that the majority grew up as untutored as when they were born.

Home discipline and training of manners were ignored, even in well-to-do families. Children were left without control, and by excessive indulgence allowed to do just as they pleased; hence they became ill-behaved and boorish.

Planters of means, and others who could afford it, sent their sons and daughters to private schools, or to the colleges under the direction of the priests in Manila, Jaro (Yloilo Province), or Cebu. A few—very few—sent their sons to study in Europe, or in Hong-Kong.

According to the Budget of 1888 the State contributed to the expense of Education, in that year, as follows, viz.:—

P. cts. Schools and Colleges for high-class education in Manila, including Navigation, Drawing, Painting, Book-keeping, Languages, History, Arts and Trades, Natural History Museum and Library and general instruction. 86,450 00 School of Agriculture (including 10 schools and model farms in 10 Provinces) 113,686 64 General Expenses of Public Instruction, including National Schools in the Provinces 38,513 70 ========== P238,650 34

The teaching offered to students in Manila was very advanced, as will be seen from the following Syllabus of Education in the Municipal Athenaeum of the Jesuits:—

Agriculture. Geometry. Philosophy. Algebra. Greek. Physics and Chemistry. Arithmetic. History. Rhetoric and Poetry. Commerce. Latin. Spanish Classics. Geography. Mechanics. Spanish Composition. English. Natural History. Topography. French. Painting. Trigonometry.

In the highest Girls' School—the Santa Isabel College—the following was the curriculum, viz.:—

Arithmetic. Geology. Philippine History. Drawing. Geometry. Physics. Dress-cutting. History of Spain. Reading. French. Music. Sacred History. Geography. Needlework. Spanish Grammar.

There were also (for girls) the Colleges of Santa Catalina, Santa Rosa, La Concordia, the Municipal School, etc. A few were sent to the Italian Convent in Hong-Kong.

A college known as Saint Thomas' was founded in Manila by Fray Miguel de Benavides, third Archbishop of Manila, between the years 1603 and 1610. He contributed to it his library and P 1,000, to which was added a donation by the Bishop of Nueva Segovia of P 3,000 and his library. In 1620 it already had professors and masters under Government auspices. It received three Papal Briefs for 10 years each, permitting students to graduate in Philosophy and Theology. It was then raised to the status of a University in the time of Philip IV. by Papal Bull of November 20, 1645. The first rector of Saint Thomas' University was Fray Martin Real de la Cruz. In the meantime, the Jesuits' University had been established. Until 1645 it was the only place of learning superior to primary education, and conferred degrees. The Saint Thomas' University (under the direction of Dominican friars) now disputed the Jesuits' privilege to confer degrees, claiming for themselves exclusive right by Papal Bull. A lawsuit followed, and the Supreme Court of Manila decided in favour of Saint Thomas'. The Jesuits appealed to the King against this decision. The Supreme Council of the Indies was consulted, and revoked the decision of the Manila Supreme Court, so that the two Universities continued to give degrees until the Jesuits were expelled from the Colony in 1768. From 1785 Saint Thomas' University was styled the "Royal University," and was declared to rank equally with the Peninsular Universities.

There were also the Dominican College of San Juan de Letran, founded in the middle of the 17th century, the Jesuit Normal School, the Convent of Mercy for Orphan Students, and the College of Saint Joseph. This last was founded in 1601, under the direction of the Jesuits. King Philip V. gave it the title of "Royal College," and allowed an escutcheon to be erected over the entrance. The same king endowed three professorial chairs with P 10,000 each. Latterly it was governed by the Rector of the University, whilst the administration was confided to a licentiate in pharmacy.

At the time of the Spanish evacuation, therefore, the only university in the City of Manila was that of Saint Thomas, which was empowered to issue diplomas of licentiate in law, theology, medicine, and pharmacy to all successful candidates, and to confer degrees of LL.D. The public investiture was presided over by the Rector of the University, a Dominican friar; and the speeches preceding and following the ceremony, which was semi-religious, were made in the Spanish language.

In connection with this institution there was the modern Saint Thomas' College for preparing students for the University.