an utter impossibility. There is such racial antipathy that the Visayas would not, in this generation, submit to what they would always consider a Tagálog Republic, and the Tagálogs, having procured the overthrow of the Spaniards, would naturally resent a preponderance of Visaya influence. Families there are very closely united, but as a people they have little idea of union. The rivalry for prestige at the present day between one village and another on the same coast is sufficient to prove the tendency to disintegrate. The native likes to localise, to bring everything he requires or aspires to within his own small circle. If his ambition were to be a leader of men he would be content to be a king in his own town. Native ideas are not expansive and far-reaching. Then the question arises, Who would be the electors ? The masses are decidedly too ignorant to be capable of voting intelligently. The votes would be entirely controlled by cliques of landowners.

If the native Republic did succeed, it would not be strong enough to protect itself against foreign aggression. The islands are a splendid group, well worth picking a quarrel and spending a few millions. sterling to annex them. I entertain the firm conviction that an unprotected united Republic would last only until the novelty of the situation had worn off. Then, I think, every principal island would, in turn, declare its independence. Finally, there would be complete chaos, and before that took root America, or some European nation, would probably have interfered, therefore it is better to start with protection. I cannot doubt that General Aguinaldo is quite alive to these facts; nevertheless, I admire his astuteness in entering on any plan which, by hook or by crook, will expel the friars. If the Republic failed, at least monastic power would never return.

A Protectorate under a strong nation is just as necessary to ensure good administration in the islands as to protect them against foreign attack. Either Great Britain or America would be equally welcome to the islanders if they had not the vanity to think they could govern themselves. Unless America decided to start on a brand new policy it would hardly suit her, I conjecture, to accept the mission of a protectorate so distant from her chief interests. England, having ample resources so near at hand, would probably find it a less irksome task. For the reasons given above the control would have to be a very direct one. I would go so far as to suggest that the government should be styled "The Philippine Protectorate." There might be a Chamber of Deputies, with a native President. The Protector and his six advisers should be American or English. The functions of Ministers should be vested in the advisers and those of President (of a republic) in the Protector. In any case the finances could not be confided to a native. The inducement to finance himself would be too great. All races should be represented in the Chamber

by men of their own class, otherwise there would be wire-pulling by the half-castes to secure a monopoly.`

The total population of the islands amounts to about six millions. The chief products are hemp, sugar, leaf tobacco, and cigars. The articles of minor importance for export are choice hardwoods, dyewoods, copra, rattans, palm-leaf hats, gum, &c. The islands are extremely fertile, and will produce almost anything to be found in the tropics. I estimate that barely one-fourth of the tillable land is now under cultivation. There is at present only one railway of 120 miles. A number of lines would have to be constructed in Luzon, Panay, Negros, Cebú, and Mindanao Islands. Companies would probably take up the contracts on ninety-years' working concession and ninety-nine years' lease of acreage in lieu of guaranteed interest. The lands would become immensely valuable to the railway companies, and an enormous source of taxable wealth to the Protectorate. Road-making should be taken up on Treasury account, and bridge construction on contract, to be paid for by toll concessions. The port of Yloilo should be improved, the custom-houses abolished, and about ten more free ports opened to the world. Under the Protectorate undoubtedly capital would flow into the Philippines. The coal beds in Luzon and Cebú Islands would be opened out; the marble deposits of Montalban and the stone quarries of Angono (both near Manila) would surely be worked. The possibilities of development under a free, liberal government are so great that the next generation would look back with astonishment at the statistics of the present day. The Chamber of Deputies would no doubt adopt measures to avert the danger of an overwhelming influx of Chinese.

The city of Manila is situated at the mouth of the Pasig River, on the eastern extremity of a bay which is twenty-seven miles across from east to west. At the western extremity there is the Island of Corregidor, which, if fortified and equipped with modern armament, would command the entrance to the bay. Six miles S.W. of Manila city there is a little neck of land on which stand the fort and arsenal of Cavite. Cavite and the headland are now in possession of Admiral Dewey's forces, An attack on the Americans by sea is of course out of the question since the annihilation of the Spanish fleet. Any body of troops moving along that strip of land which connects Cavite with the mainland of the island could be effectually shelled from the American ships. Dewey and his party are therefore perfectly safe pending the arrival of reinforcements.

The city of Manila is practically divided into two parts. The official or walled city is built on the left bank of the Pasig river, and the commercial city is situated on the Island of Binondo, which forms the right bank of the same river. They are connected by a well-built stone bridge, a little over a mile up the river. Proceeding up the

river, which is very tortuous, one reaches a large lake fed by numerous streams which flow down the crevices of the surrounding mountains. The banks of the Pasig are beautifully picturesque, quaint, and interesting. For about a mile and a half from the stone bridge mentioned above they are dotted with charming villas, the English Club at Nagtajan, the Governor-General's châlet, &c., surrounded by palm-trees and all the luxurious grandeur of tropical vegetation. In early morning the Pasig presents a lively scene, with the hundreds of canoes skidding rapidly down stream laden with supplies for the capital. Excepting & few shops and craftsmen's workrooms, there is no trade in the walled city, the principal buildings being the cathedral, many churches, the archbishop's palace, the university, high schools, military and civil government offices, an ordnance depôt, and other official establishments. The Governor-General's official residence was destroyed by an earthquake in 1863, and a new one is in course of construction. The walls which entirely encircle the city were, no doubt, a formidable defence up to a century ago, but are quite useless against modern artillery. This is fully recognised by the Spaniards themselves, who have indeed frequently discussed their demolition, but tradition and a just appreciation of their worth in case of rebellion have preserved them. Of the ordnance mounted on the walls there are two pieces of modern type. According to the latest reliable advices, the Spaniards are going to the useless trouble of putting the drawbridges in order and flooding the surrounding moats and throwing up earthworks and sandbag defences, all of which would be very effectual against an unsupported attack of the rebels only. Across the river, the quarter of Binondo (with the suburbs) constitutes the trading centre. Here are located the foreign and other merchants' offices and warehouses, and the whole trade of Manila is transacted on this side of the river. It has ro military defences of any kind, and the bombardment of the Spaniards' stronghold might, for obvious reasons, be very well confined to the left bank of the Pasig River. This would for military purposes be just as effectual as a general bombardment, for surely the Spaniards would never attempt to hold out after their walled city had been levelled. If they did, the rest could be as well accomplished after the landing on the city ruins, and thus the principal trading interests (mostly foreign) would not be sacrificed. I do not consider the rebels concentrated around Manila sufficiently strong or well enough organised to effectually starve the Spaniards into surrender. The natives are

fine soldiers when well led; so if after the walled city is demolished the Spaniards still hold out, then the co-operation of the rebels will be invaluable in the final assault.

Spain as a conquering nation has been a great success; but the days of conquest have long gone by. As a colonising nation she has proved a great failure from the beginning, for wherever she has

ceased to hold her own by sheer force of arms no merited gratitude of a prosperous people has been able to hold together those bonds originally created by the sword. Where military despotism has opened the way, generous intelligent administration has not followed in the wake to promote the happiness and wellbeing of the subjected races. The two great factors in the decline of Spanish rule have been religious despotism and greed. Liberty to till the land and take the produce thereof, to journey from place to place, to cull the wild fruits of nature, has only been wrung from the Spaniards bit by bit. Repressive measures, contrary to the spirit of the times and repugnant to the instincts of the people, never did succeed anywhere. The natural result is reaction, revolution, and social upheaval by force. The most loyal colony is that which yearns for nothing at the hands of the Mother Country. It seems almost incredible that statesmen of the calibre of the late Cánovas del Castillo, himself a historian, accustomed to look back and weigh the consequences of statecraft, should have been so blind to the power of the will of the people. Historical precedent should have taught him how realisable was the theme of Cuba libre. But stubborn pride and a failure to act opportunely have left Spain with only traditional glory. Unfortunately ·

this very glory has compelled her to pick up the gauntlet thrown down by the United States. Spaniards are so constantly chewing the cud of their past victories-ever patting each other on the back over the deeds of remote heroes, that they fail to see why the warrior of a hundred battles, now tottering with decrepitude, can no longer enter the lists and break lances with a more virile competitor. Spaniards cannot tolerate being told the bare distasteful truth. If the. Ministers who, from behind the scenes, are able to appreciate the comparative forlornness of their resources and the futility of resistance, were to deny the popular romance, that what Spain has done she can do again, the first spark of revolution would be kindled.

Undoubtedly not a few of them go abroad and read, mark, and learn to their individual advantage, but who of them would have the courage to return to Spain and expose her fallacies, with no prospect of carrying conviction, and a certainty of being déclassé-a social outcast with the epithet of Anti-Español?

So to the inspiriting strains of the Marcha de Cádiz, the youth, encouraged by the beauty of every town and village, has gaily gone forth to sacrifice its all for national pride and letters of gold in the annals of its country.

HAMBURG, June 1893.

JOHN FOREMAN,

VOL. LXXIV.

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MR. GLADSTONE.

HEN Mr. Chamberlain said that Mr. Gladstone, like a mountain, could be seen in his true proportions only from a distance, he referred, of course, to time; but remoteness in space, likely as it is to lose important aspects, does something to reduce a big personality to simple outlines. The love and hate which obscure the home view of Mr. Gladstone exist across the ocean almost as little as they will exist for posterity. The intricacies and contradictions of his character, which stir up his contemporaries and will be dismissed in few words by later generations, are not seen as far around the globe as the qualities which have made him the spokesman, or rather the engineer, of advancing democracy. Only the louder echoes of his fame are heard so far away, giving our conception of him some of that simplicity with which we see the heroes of the past.

Few men who have spoken and written so much can be seen so incompletely in their recorded words. To look for his personality in the volumes which contain his speeches and essays, without the help of outside testimony, would be to discover most of his weakness and a fraction of his strength. His is a greatness of quantity rather than of quality, and the mere amount of him, which has helped to spread his influence in every corner of Great Britain, has drowned what fineness there was in his words and thoughts taken for themselves and not for their result. In his myriad utterances hardly a page will be among the popular quotations of posterity. Great as many of his speeches are, it is a greatness which has served its purpose almost with the occasion which brought it out. So tremendously effective have been some of the speeches for the purposes by which they were inspired, that a generation which trembled in response has given to them a kind of praise which not even the highest passages deserve.