As Spanish dominion in the Philippines was now about to close, let us stop a moment to inquire what it had brought to the Islands. It may have been hard and utterly unprogressive, but it turned the tribes of Luzon and the Visayas from tribal feuds and slave-raiding expeditions to agriculture.

To accomplish these results required untiring energy and a high enthusiasm among the missionaries. They had lived among savages, speaking their tongue, until they had almost forgotten their own. Spain had ceased to be everything to them; their order was their country. Spanish officials came and went, but the ministers of the Church remained, and as they grew to be the interpreters of the wants of the people, in many cases their protectors against spoliation, power fell into their hands. It is rather interesting to learn that in 1619, in the reign of Philip III, it was proposed to abandon the Philippines on account of their useless expense to Spain, but a delegation of friars from the Islands implored him not to abandon the twenty thousand Christians they had converted, and the order was countermanded.

Spanish dominion left the people Christians, whereas, if the Islands had not been occupied by Spain, their people would in all probability to-day be Mohammedan. The point of view of the Spanish friars may not be ours, but when their efforts are judged by the good rather than the evil results, it can still be said that Spain gave Christianity and a long term of peace to the Philippine archipelago. The Filipinos are the only Christian Asiatics.

But Philippine history was to take an unexpected turn. The Spanish-American war broke out, and a new factor appeared upon the scene in the shape of Commodore Dewey and his fleet. We all know the story of the battle of Manila Bay, but we may just recall it briefly.

It was the night of April 30, 1898, that the American Asiatic squadron, which had received its orders at Hongkong, arrived off the Philippines. They took a look first into Subig Bay, but seeing no enemy, they made their way into Manila Bay by the Boca Grande entrance. There were rumours of mines in the channel and big guns in the forts, but Dewey took the chance, and the fleet steamed in at night. The ships formed two columns, the fighting ships all in one line, and the auxiliary vessels about twelve hundred yards behind. They moved at the rate of their slowest vessel.

Black thunder clouds at times obscured even the crescent moon that partially lighted their course, but occasional lightning flashes gave the bold Americans a glimpse of frowning Corregidor and the sentinel rock of El Fraile. The ships were dark except for one white light at the stern of each as a guide to the vessel next in line. As the Olympia turned toward El Fraile her light was seen by a Spanish sentry. A sheet of flame from the smokestack of the McCulloch, a revenue cutter attached to the fleet, also betrayed its presence to the enemy at the same moment. El Fraile and a battery on the south shore of the bay at once opened fire, which was returned by the ships to such good purpose that the battery was silenced in three minutes. Slowly, steadily, Dewey's ships steamed on, and at dawn discovered the gray Spanish vessels lying in front of the naval arsenal at Cavite, over on the distant shore to the right. Admiral Montojo's flagship, the Reina Cristina, and the Castilla, and a number of smaller vessels, formed a curved line of battle, which was protected in a measure by the shore batteries. The Spaniards had one more ship than the Americans, but the latter had bigger guns.

Silently the American squadron advanced across the bay, with the Stars and Stripes flying from every ship. At quarter past five on the morning of May 1st, the Spanish ships fired their first shots. When less than six thousand yards from their line, Dewey gave the famous order to Captain Gridley, in command of the Olympia: "You may fire when you're ready, Gridley."

Two hours later, the Reina Cristina had been burned, the Castilla was on fire, and all but one of the other Spanish vessels were abandoned and sunk. Dewey gave his men time for breakfast and a little rest, then shelled and silenced the batteries at Cavite. Soon after noon the Spaniards surrendered, having lost 381 men and ten war vessels. Seven Americans were slightly wounded, but none were killed. So ended this famous battle.