[Sidenote: Churches.]
Ten A.M.—I have just got rid of my uniform, in which I thought it proper to attire myself in order to receive all the officers, naval and military, who came at nine o'clock to pay their respects. I had strolled out much earlier incognito, and wandered into several churches. They abound here, as do monks of all orders. The decorations seemed tinselly enough, but there was the Catholic ritual, with its sublime suggestions and trivial forms, repeating itself under the equator in the extreme East, as it repeats itself at Paris or Madrid, and under Arctic or Antarctic circles. And here, as there, at these early morning services, were a few solitary women assisting; some of them commonplace-looking enough, but others, no doubt, with a load of troubles to deposit at the altar, or in the ear of the monk in the box, heavy enough to furnish the burden of many such romances as those which thrill the public sensibilities in our days. After all, when the horrors which have brought about the result are past and forgotten, there is something gained by that truculent Spanish system which forces the faith upon all who come within its reach. Fais-toi chrétienner, ou je t'arrache l'âme, as Charlemagne (not a Spaniard, by the way, so there my illustration halts) said to his heathen enemies. There is something, I say, gained by it when the origin is forgotten, because the bond of a common creed does do a little towards drawing these different races together. They are not separated from each other by that impassable barrier of mutual contempt, suspicion, and antipathy, which alienates us from the unhappy natives in those lands where we settle ourselves among inferior orders of men. An administrative net of a not very flexible nature encloses all, and keeps each member of the body politic pretty closely to the post allotted to him; but the belief in a common humanity, drawn perhaps rather from the traditions of the early, than from the practice of the modern church, runs like a silken thread through the iron tissue. One feels a little softened and sublimated when one passes from Hong-Kong, where the devil is worshipped in his naked deformity, to this place where he displays at least some of the feathers which he wore before he fell. So you must pardon me, if my letter reflects in some measure the phase through which my mind is passing.
[Sidenote: State of the Island.]
I found next me at breakfast the Chief of the Secrétariat, an intelligent man, speaking French. He confirmed a good many of the impressions which my own observations had led me to form respecting the state of affairs here. The army is composed of natives; officers and non-commissioned officers, Spanish. The artillery, or a portion of it, also Spanish. The native Indians pay a capitation tax of $1 a head; half-castes double; Chinese $50, $30, or $12. As usual, my poor Chinamen are hated and squeezed. They are not obliged to become Catholics, but the native Indian women can/will not marry them unless they are, and they are not allowed to make public profession of any other religion…. After breakfast came in an English merchant, who made the passage from Suez to Singapore with me in 1857. He says foreigners are very well treated here, but they have some difficulties about customs duties, which I have asked him to state in writing to me, that I may say a word about them if occasion offers. The greater part of the trade here is in English hands.
[Sidenote: Indian women.]
To pass from the higher thoughts which suggested themselves when I visited the churches this morning, I may tell you that I saw some of the devout Indian women when they left the churches on their return. They were generally very plain, to say the least of it. Round their waists and over their under-dress they pass a piece of silk, which is wrapped tight round the person. The result is as nearly as possible the opposite to the effect produced by a crinoline.
[Sidenote: Cigar making.]
I have returned from a very hot drive to visit a sugar refinery and a cigar manufactory. I saw little to interest at the former, except the process of making chocolate by mixing cocoa, cinnamon, and sugar. At the latter, some 8,000 girls were employed, not very pretty, but cheerful-looking. A skilful worker can make 200 a day, so that these young ladies can poison mankind to the tune of 1,600,000 cigars a day.
[Sidenote: The cathedral.]
Sunday, January 27th.—Ten A.M.—In my early morning's walk I again visited the churches, which were in greater activity than yesterday. In the cathedral I came in for a sermon which began 'Illustrissimo Señor' so I suppose the Archbishop was present, and probably had me in his eye. I could understand very little, so I did not stay it out. It was delivered without notes (having evidently been learnt by heart), in rather a monotonous way; with a sort of little action, all confined to a slight movement of the hands and flipping of the fingers…. The Archbishop is, I am told, very bigoted. He did not come to dinner yesterday (a grand full-dress dinner given in my honour), and some say it was because of my being a heretic. I take it I was in error yesterday in speaking of the Spanish system of compelling conformity of belief as necessarily beginning in harshness. I fancy the monks have won over the simple Indians here to a great extent by gentle methods. They protect them, and manage their affairs, and know all their secrets through the confessional, and amuse them with no end of feast-days, and gewgaws, and puerile ceremonies. The natives seem to have a great deal of our dear old French Canadian habitans about them, only in a more sublime stage of infantine simplicity.