The applause, by-the-bye, was most instructive, for the American speeches were applauded to the echo with shouts by the Americans; but the Filipinos and Mestizos received the Spanish translations in utter silence. On the other hand, the brown folk roared with applause over their own speakers, and the Americans did not take the least notice of the English translations. It was a most odd and unique scene.
Last of all came Mr Taft, who spoke better, more clearly, and more simply than any of the others, and my only regret was that such a splendid delivery should have been impeded by the interpretations.
He repeated all the things he had said in the morning at the Gobierno, walking even more boldly up to the Independence question, and saying that the people would be given their Independence when they were worthy of it, which was the sacred duty of the American people, who had received these Islands as a Trust from God.
This was received with rapturous ovations by his countrymen, but the translation was taken in absolute and embarrassing silence—all but two or three hisses!
He went on to expound the theory of educating the Filipino people up to Western ideals, and laid great stress upon the dignity and power of labour—“and you must work with your hands—your hands!”—thunders of applause from the white men. Absolute silence after the translation. For my part, I can’t say I felt much carried away by these phrases when I recollected the speaker’s attitude towards manual labour and book-learning a few hours before.
When they were on a level with the free races, “in a hundred years, perhaps three hundred, four hundred, they would be worthy to stand and face the nations”—or something like that. He also said that he had certainly promised the Filipinos Independence, and he was not going back upon his words, no—he was come to uphold—to ratify them. “Dear Wards from God,” he called them, spreading his arms out and smiling the Taft smile, and saying “that the Philippines were a solemn trust, and the Americans would not fail in this great duty towards humanity.”
So these fine words were all they got out of Mr Taft, and we all rose and trooped out to find our “rigs.”
At the top of the staircase I met a very Prominent Citizen, who remarked that this had been a great occasion for Iloilo; and I said: “Yes, Mr Taft is a clever man and a brilliant orator.”
“That’s so,” agreed my friend, “he made a vurry fine speech.”
I said: “He spoke a great many truths; what he said was very straightforward.”