None of these are used to excess, however; and I have never seen an intoxicated Filipino.

Throughout the valley of the Rio Grande, as well as the province of Nueva Vizcaya, the wilder regions are inhabited by Igorrotes. These savages are not powerful enough to attack a town of any size, but they are a formidable menace to the smaller villages, and particularly to travelers. Unarmed individuals cannot go with impunity from one town to another, but must travel in parties and with an armed escort. For this reason, communication between the towns of these provinces is comparatively rare. Many provincessuch as Nueva Vizcaya—are shut off from their neighbors by ranges of mountains whose passes lie in the Igorrote territory and are eminently exposed to attack. At certain seasons of the year these attacks become especially numerous, on account, it is said, of the religious ceremonies observed by the Igorrotes. These ceremonies require the presence of human heads; and, accordingly, the whole tribe, moved by a deep feeling of piety, proceeds, with its armament of arrows and lances, to waylay whatever unhappy Filipinos may come within reach. One of these seasons of religious manifestation lasts nine days. It had become so notorious and had cost so many lives that a few years ago a law was passed prohibiting travel on certain roads between prescribed dates.

Many tribes of Igorrotes have been brought partly within the pale of civilization; principally in the western provinces. These tribes, in their semi-civilized state, are called Trugmanes. They live in primitive villages, and are presided over by leaders chosen from their own tribe. I have seen many of these people. The chiefs dress in Filipino garb, with cotton trousers, and a shirt falling outside of all. The chief is always seen carrying his staff of office-a gold headed cane. The tribesmen wear only loin-cloths. They are finely built and very powerful men.

The dangers incident to travel have had much to do with the confusion of dialects that prevails on the island, and this confusion is consequently more marked in the eastern than in the western provinces. The educated class of Filipinos can speak two languages that are universal throughout

the island in their own class; these are Spanish and Tegalog. The ignorant natives, on the other hand, have only their own provincial dialect. These dialects are so different one from another that they must be separately studied to be understood. Dictionaries of many of them have been made by the Jesuit priests. Through the servants of our party, we had at command five dialects in addition to the Spanish and Tegalog. Yet, in passing through one province, we failed utterly to make ourselves understood by a native whom we accosted, although we plied him patiently with these seven languages.

There is but one individual who seems never to be daunted by the obstacles and dangers that separate him from the province toward which he sees fit to direct his footsteps. I refer to the Chinaman. In almost every village we visited we found at least one of that race; and in the larger towns there were many. They are the merchants of the island; presiding over every shop, and drawing money from every village. They are deeply hated by the Filipinos, and were the object of a strict emigration law under the administration of Aguinaldo's provisional government. The steamer Oslo, which took our party from Aparri, brought to that port a number of Chinese immigrants, destined in the greater part for Manila. The supercargo, however, desired to leave fifty of them at Aparri, and offered the governor of that place fifty dollars per head for that number if he would permit them to land. His offer was promptly refused.

Our party proceeded on the Oslo from Aparri around the northwestern corner of the island and landed on the coast near the northern end of the province of South Ilocos. From here we proceeded by land southward through the western provinces. During this part of our journey we were thrown into closer association than previously with the military. element of the population; of which I hope to have an opportunity to speak further in a subsequent article.

The towns on the western coast are even larger than those on the Rio Grande. Vigan, the capital of South Ilocos, has a population of about 28,000, and Candon, further to the southward, is not far behind this figure. The Mayor of Candon was

worship were almost entirely suspended for want of persons ordained to conduct them. In Ilocos and Union, however, natives had been promptly placed in the sacred offices left vacant by the imprisonment of the Spanish priests; and at the time of our visit they were conducting all the services of the Church. Freedom

of thought marked the views of every Filipino that I have heard express himself on the subject of religion, and, although I certainly have met devout Catholics among them, I judge that that Church, on account of the abuses with which it has been associated on the island, has failed on the whole to secure an exclusive hold on the minds of the natives.

In speaking of the Filipino people, I have had reference throughout principally to one class of their society, which I have called the cultured class. If my observations of that class are just, however, I think that inferences can safely be drawn from them that extend their application over the entire Tegalog population. The great mass of this population has been kept in an unenlightened state by deliberate legislation which has effectually deprived them of every possible opportunity for advancement. Those who have acquired education have acquired it at an extravagant cost that has placed it hopelessly beyond the reach of all but the wealthy. There are few, if any, among that number, however, who, while possessing the price of a schooling, have neglected to apply it to that end. I cannot see what better gauge we can obtain at present of the intelligence and ambition of the whole Filipino race than the progress that has been made by its favored members with the limited opportunities at their command. Throughout the island a thirst for knowledge is manifested, and an ex

travagant respect for those who possess it. I have seen a private native citizen in a town in the interior exercise a more powerful influence than all the native officials over the minds of the inhabitants, simply because he was known to have been educated in the best schools at Manila, and was regarded for that reason as a superior man. The heroes of these people are not heroes of war, but of science and invention. Without rival, the American who is best known by reputation in Luzon is Mr. Edison, and any native with the slightest pretension to education whom you may question on the subject will take delight in reciting a list of his achievements. The ruling Filipinos, during the existence of their provisional government, appreciated the necessity of providing public schools to be accessible to the poorest inhabitants. Had events so shaped themselves as to have provided an opportunity for carrying into effect the plans formed on this point, it seems possible that the mental plane of the entire population might have been raised gradually to a surprising height.

Out of respect to the statements of other people which the narrative of my experience may seem to contradict, I wish to say that I have found the native of the interior of Luzon an astonishingly different character from the one ordinarily met in Manila. Previous to my journey, I regarded those whom I had encountered in that city with great dislike, and after my return I was unable to overcome that feeling. They are not a fair sample of the race; and I cannot expect any one who has formed his judgment on the subject merely from observations of that type to express an opinion similar to mine, as recorded above.

S

EVERAL years ago I met and talked with an intelligent man, who at that time was one hundred and ten years old. For seventy years of his long life he had been an expert machinist, that is, a constructor of machinery. He had preserved all his faculties in an unusual degree, and his memory was particularly good as to his early life, which in his case stretched beyond what we generally call middle age. In our conversation I asked him what he considered was the most remarkable achievement of science in his time. He asked me to walk with him. About two hundred yards from his house was a trolley line. Soon after we reached the line a car came whizzing along at something like twenty miles an hour. "That," said he, pointing at the car, "is the most wonderful thing I have ever seen. I come to look at the cars go by every day." I should like to have heard that old man's opinion on the electric or gasoline automobile, but at that time there was none in his neighborhood, and now he is no more. The trolley is a very wonderful method of propulsion, but I consider, and I believe that the venerable machinist would have agreed with me, that the motor vehicle at present used on the city streets and country roads is

even more wonderful. And especially is it wonderful when it is driven by electricity.

Road traction first engaged the attention of engineers, and had it not been for the diversion of this attention to rail traction by the invention of the locomotive, it is likely that we should have had steam road carriages long ago, and good roads to drive them over as well. Cugnot, a Frenchman, built a steam road carriage in 1763, Murdock built a steam tricycle in England in 1781, and Oliver Evans in America applied in 1786 to the Legislatures of Pennsylvania and Maryland for a patent on a steam road carriage. Towards the end of the last century Trevithick, sometimes called the Father of the Locomotive, turned his attention to road motors, and in 1801 built a steam carriage, which climbed steep hills faster than a man could walk. Until the inventive attention was turned to railway development there were many attempts to perfect these road carriages, but they had to be made in the face of the opposition of the landowners and those with other vested interests. In 1833 Squire and Macerone built several steam carriages in England, and these attained an average speed of fourteen miles an hour. But the success

of the railroad put a stop to the improvements in these road carriages for nearly half a century.

Indeed, it has only been within the past ten years that capitalists could be induced to invest anything in experiments looking towards the perfection of these motor vehicles. And we, on this side of the Atlantic, were not the first to go into this new-old venture. We let the French and the English take the initiative, and Mr. Duryea, an American automobile maker, says that as lately as four years ago it was almost impossible to get capitalists to look seriously upon a proposition which contemplated the building and the selling of these carriages. They regarded the idea as fanciful and chimerical. In the brief space of four years an immense change has taken place. Three of these years may be said to have been given up to the education of conservative capitalists and the growth of the demand for the carriages on the part of the public. The other year has been a time of immense action, for now there are a great many plants in America working night and day to build the carriages that have been ordered, while there is upwards of $400,000,000 of capital invested in the business. One manufacturing company accepted an order in July for 4,200 carriages. To fill this order the company will need to spend something like eight millions of dollars for material and labor. It is likely that no new business ever grew to such proportions within SO short a time. Four years ago there was no business at all; one year ago the building of automobiles had just passed the experimental stage;

to-day it is a great industry, and the demand for the product of the manufacturers is growing all the while. Those who could keep up with the times must be wide awake, for the best ingenuity of the world is engaged in the improvement of the motor vehicles which were fads yesterday, but are thoroughly practical and serviceable means of locomotion to-day.

In New York a carriage propelled by gasoline, steam, or electricity attracted much attention a year or so ago on the streets; now there are hundreds of such, and the passing of one of them is not noticed any more than an ordinary hansom cab pulled by a horse. In another year there will be four times as many, and it is proposed that some of these shall carry passengers as an ordinary omnibus, and run in connection with the surface and elevated railways, transferring passengers from the one to the other at a single fare. New York is rarely foremost in the matter of urban transportation, and what will ultimately be done in the metropolis will probably be accomplished long before in other American cities, not handicapped by a

A BROUGHAM-HACK