In any case it occurred, and was accompanied by atrocities of a shocking kind. As the native troops now began to go over to the rebels bodily, and usually after murdering their Spanish officers, the result was that the Spanish rule was soon in utter ruin. The fragments of these ruins were brought to the ground by Admiral Dewey's

cannon.

The last struggles of Spain in the Philippines may possess only a historic interest. Yet they do serve to explain the problem which the Americans have undertaken to solve. A good deal of obscurity rests on the transactions which took place between Admiral Dewey and Aguinaldo at Hong-kong. The Filipino case is that the Americans promised them help to secure their independence. The American case is that the Filipinos asked for their protection. It is possible that they did; but, then, what did Aguinaldo understand by "protection," and did Admiral Dewey exactly define the sense in which he used the term? There is a good deal of difference between the protection which England gave Spain during the Peninsular War and that which she affords the Nizam of Hyderabad, which again is different from that she gives the Ameer of Afghanistan. The Filipinos would no doubt accept the first freely, and they would probably have no invincible objection to the third. They are fighting because they are threatened by the second. If there be such things as rights and wrongs in the relations of peoples, they have something to say for

themselves. It is true that they had substantially won their independence when America intervened. It is hard that they should be despoiled by their friend.

Right and wrong are out of place in this discussion as completely as the honour of Lady Teazle in a certain famous conversation with Mr Joseph Surface. The question is whether the Filipinos can vindicate their independence. General Polavieja's campaign, and the operations of the Americans themselves round Manila, show that the work of breaking up and beating back a native army, though arduous from the nature of the country and the climate, is no impossible feat. But the success of the Spaniards in 1897 also shows that the mere breaking up of the native armies near Manila will not end the war. They had recourse to methods of bribery by which they secured a delusive show of peace, but they would not have secured even so much if they had not bought off Aguinaldo for a space. We cannot suppose that America will imitate the mere bribery of the convention of Biacnabató; but if she does not, and will not resign her attempt to master the islands, then she has assuredly a long series of operations before her on the other side of the coming rainy season. As yet she has touched only a small part of the island of Luzon. The whole has to be mastered. In the other islands there is a marked disinclination to accept her rule. The inhabitants of Panay, for instance, resented

the landing of an American garrison at Iloilo, and that with effect. Therefore we cannot suppose that the resistance to the foreigner is confined to the Tagalo and half Tagalo population around Manila, with their educated leaders whose heads have been turned by European Liberalism. Colonel Monteverde, when giving his account of the native patriots and their principles, says that in addition to the semi-civilised Liberals, there are those who want to go back to their old tribal independence under their own chiefs. At the present moment they enjoy it in fact, and they will not be deprived of it by mere victories over Aguinaldo and other leaders in the neighbourhood of Manila.

The boasted enterprise of the American press does not seem to be equal to sending an intelligent correspondent to Manila. At the same time the Government of the Republic has developed a marked taste for a censorship. Between the want of independent witnesses and official reticence the world is not much better informed than it was in the days of Spanish rule. We hear constant reports of victories, from which hasty commentators draw the premature conclusion that the Filipinos are destroyed. Yet they go on fighting. Their "capital" has been taken till the report of that achievement is becoming a joke in the States. Aguinaldo has undergone eclipse; but his absence, to whatever cause it may be due, appears to make no difference. His successor is prepared to treat, but not yet to surrender.

Meanwhile the American troops suffer severely from heat, and when reduced by this strain will have to face the relaxing influence of the wet season. Perhaps we ought not to attach much importance to stories of grumbling, and of half - mutinous complaints of overwork, such as are said to have been made by the men of the Nebraska regiment. Yet the American volunteers who went out gaily on what they supposed would be an expedition of fun and glory, may well be depressed by a reality so different from their hopes. Neither does it appear that the American people is prepared to send out the 100,000 men which their general is understood to have declared will be necessary for the complete occupation of the Philippines. The omens do not point to a speedy conclusion of the war. We may guess that they do point to some arrangement more or less like the Spanish convention of Biacnabató, which will promise a large measure of self-government to the Filipinos under American supervision. But as our experience will show the Americans if they will consult it, that is a way of saying peace where there is no peace. Civilised supervision is incompatible with more than a very modest measure of self-government by the educated native baboo, or the uneducated native barbarian. Thorough conquest must be the preliminary to any useful concession the Americans can make-and when it is made it will require the protection of a powerful military force for years to come.

IN the history of polo it would be difficult to find a more picturesque presentment of the game, even in its Eastern home, than during the polo-week at Gilgit. There the wild frontier tribes are represented, and, with the barbaric pomp and pageantry dear to the heart of the untutored son of the East, men whose feuds have been the cause of some of our worst frontier troubles meet in friendly rivalry. Last year it was the teams representing Hunza and Nagar, names of sinister import to those who are responsible for the government of our Indian frontier, which met in the finals of the Gilgit tournament.

Those who have seen twelve of these teams ride on to the ground at the beginning of the Gilgit week are never likely to forget it. Each team of twelve horsemen, in the brilliant dress of their tribe, headed by their raja and their band, advance with the majesty they consider due to their own dignity on any public or semi-official occasion. Their musicians on weird instruments herald their approaching triumph, for all have the most implicit faith in themselves and their fellow-tribesmen, and never believe in the possibility of defeat before it actually comes. With the fortunes of the game the music is triumphant or sad, according as the tribesmen press victoriously on their adversaries or are pressed by them.

The game, indeed, is very

different to the play shown by the Royal Horse Guards or the Inniskillings on the velvet lawns of Hurlingham or Ranelagh; but it is hearty and skilful nevertheless, and is marked by some surprising feats of horsemanship. The hill-ponies are handy, and are managed with consummate skill; and though, under their unwieldy saddles and strange trappings, they seem all too small for their highturbaned riders, they prove themselves fully equal to their part in the game. The raja of the side which has the right to begin grasps the stick and ball in his right hand, and, followed by the other players, gallops at full stretch to the centre of the ground, throws the ball up, and hits it while in the air. This starts the game, and wild shouts and clashing of sticks, and the thud of the galloping hoofs, mingle with strange music, and stir the pulses even of the selfpossessed European onlooker, while they rouse the impulsive Easterns to a perfect frenzy. Backwards and forwards dash the players, heedless of any blow that does not disable them, and taking in good part whatever the fortune of the day may bring. No places are kept, with the exception of that of the goalkeepers, who remain to guard the posts, and do not go up into the game at all. The other twenty-two players dash hither and thither, apparently in the wildest confusion, but always in chase of the flying ball.