MALAY LIFE I2f THE PHILIPPINES. 



461 



resources, and be themselves cast forth from suf- 

 ficient, unappreciated happiness, never to regain 

 it, never return. 



balmy life-giving breezes of the wide Pacific, 

 with enjoyment in every flutter of your wings ! 

 golden glories of the evening sun-god, ere yet 

 he withdraws from view within his cloud-built 

 palace of amber and crimson, reared on the deep 

 immensity of blue ! long be yours to range and 

 reign over the waving emerald of the parceled 

 rice-field, the unpruned freedom of the fruit-clus- 

 tered bough, the bannered flaglets of the yellow- 

 ing cane-patch, the green glister of the plantain- 

 grove, the triumph of the stately garden-palm, 

 while frequent amid them, each sheltering its con- 

 tented owner-peasant and the children-inheritors 

 of the land, rise the little thatched cottages, un- 

 dwarfed by the vast constructions of overshadow- 

 ing capital, unsmirched by Western smoke and 

 enginery ; while the fruit-bearing land smiles her 

 bounty on her unorphaned children, and the chil- 

 dren yet claim for their own the native bosom of 

 their own land ! Birthright ill sold for any coun- 

 ter-exchange of elusive gain ; Eden unequally 

 bartered for the whole world of unrest and striv- 

 ing that seethes and struggles without the island- 

 bounds. Long may those bounds remain, long 

 may they keep at bay the gods of the stranger, 

 the price of the alien, the progress that is retro- 

 cession, the science that strips to nakedness, the 

 energy that consumes and destroys, the greed of 

 all-organizing, all-devouring capital, the skilled 

 force insatiate of its slaves, the iron and the gold ! 

 And thou, cherished vision of southern fancy, vir- 

 gin-goddess of crowded shrines, Guadaloupe or 

 Eosario, Lady of Refuge, Mother and Queen of 

 men, revive in this encroaching, all-absorbing age 

 thy ancient legends of dangers repelled, invaders 

 baffled, protected island-shrines ; and shroud in 

 thy own mystic veil from the profane gaze of en- 

 terprise, from the intruding crews of progress, 

 that fatal gift of beauty, fatal to so many of her 

 sisters, the beauty of the Eastern sea-nymph who 

 clings to thy knees, nestles at thy feet, secure in 

 thy shelter, happy beyond desire in herself and 

 thee! 



A few minutes of brightest twilight and the 

 warm, star-spangled night calls forth the entire vil- 

 lage, together with the flocking crowds who have 

 come from the adjoining hamlets, in whatever 

 they can muster of gayest ornament, silver or 

 silk, to take their share in the fiesta of the district. 

 From the pillared church-front and the massive 

 octangular bell-tower close by, now illuminated by 

 countless lamps from base to summit, the graceful 



bamboo-constructed arches, flung at short inter- 

 vals across the main roadway of the village, and 

 round by a complete circuit to the church-porch 

 again, form a glowing avenue of colored lanterns 

 and transparent patterns and devices, beneath 

 which the patronal procession is to pass. And 

 here it comes, in two endless streams, men and 

 boys in their fluttering blouses on one side of the 

 road, women and girls in close-girded silks on the 

 other, all bareheaded, and with lighted tapers in 

 their hands, talking, laughing, and merry, but 

 great or small alike orderly and decorous in word 

 and gesture. The foremost are a good way al- 

 ready ahead ; and now behold a painted tinsel- 

 crowned image, the Baptist it may be, attired in 

 half-military uniform, or St. Francis in his relig- 

 ious garb, of a Virgin-Martyr, diademed and be- 

 dizened, with real jewels of price, diamonds, ru- 

 bies, emeralds, glittering amid the colored rib- 

 bons and rags, borne along the midway between 

 the files, high on a bedecked bamboo litter, amid 

 a blaze of tapers that lights up as it passes the 

 deep foliage on either side and overhead into 

 a semblance of day. Then more processionists ; 

 and after a moderate interval a second demi-god, 

 St. Michael it may be, or St. Peter perhaps, or 

 any other worshiped ideal of the Catholic Pan- 

 theon, comes swaying along, more gorgeous than 

 its predecessor ; and yet a third, and a fourth ; 

 and all the while, with occasional halts forgather- 

 ing up stragglers, or clearing the way ahead, the 

 procession moves on, a double serpent of brill- 

 iancy, and thickens as it moves ; while from amid 

 the illuminated houses, and dense gardens ofF 

 the road, rockets shoot up their irregular greet- 

 ings far into the starry silence overhead. But 

 now the crowd is at its closest, and the black 

 official jackets of the village dignitaries on one 

 side, and the brightest silks of their long-tressed 

 helpmates on the other, usher in a gigantic litter, 

 slow borne on the shoulders of the stoutest, state- 

 liest devotees ; where, throned amid a blazing pyr- 

 amid of tapers, herself a blaze of tinsel and dia- 

 monds — 



"Our Lady comes smiling and smart, 

 With a pink gauze gown over spangles, and seven 

 swords stuck in her heart ; " 



or some other avatar likeness of heaven's Queen ; 

 while all around swells the devout murmur of ven- 

 erated triumph ; close follows the village band, 

 reenforced from the nearer hamlets, as it blares 

 out its liveliest march ; and " Dea cevte" in its 

 Malay equivalent, fills every heart, and bursts 

 from every tongue. "Idolatry! rank idolatry!" 

 say you. And if so, what then ? And what, I 



