LIFE IN MANILA.—In Manila is felt the pulse of the world’s activity—the currents of political, commercial, and intellectual thought of the world—more keenly than in New York or London. The reason is simple. Each man here is an individual machine; in the larger cities he is a cog. The elements of absolute economic dependence being absent, the inhabitants are forced into contact with many nations, together with all the social and economic relations which that contact entails. In the press Manila is not overwhelmed with a mass of unimportant news. The immensity of non-essential topics of no general interest is spared the residents. Only the essential and all the essential reaches them. Their horizon is not bounded by 42nd Street nor by neighbor Peet’s farm. One of the many reasons for the happier life in Manila than in other cities of the world, so far at least as foreigners are concerned, is the natural selection of the fit and strong, which is invariably taking place. There are no crippled and weak, no poor nor invalid people in Manila to pester you. They do not come—they seldom dare. Only those looking for adventure, those fitted to care for themselves, those determined to survive that come to make this part of the world his temporary or permanent abode.

The Rizal Monument, at the Luneta, Manila

No Vexing Conventionalities The conventionalities and prescribed forms of daily living are absent. There is no Madam Gruncy to hector, there are no rules of the elite class or the would-be Four Hundred. You come and go unquestioned. You have absolute sovereignty over your own affairs. There are no neighbors to tell the foreigner what to think or how to vote. Neither a Democrat nor a Republican is disgraced for being so. A society of men and women from all corners of the globe accord respect to your judgment. Not living in San Francisco you are not disturbed by its claims of superiority to Seattle or New York.

There is less attention paid to inconsequential details and boresome routine than in the complex centers of the Old and the New World. It is of less importance to know what Lady Jane wore at the ball than to know how she will run her embroidery establishment. More thought is given to one’s failure and success and struggles with new conditions than of a man’s politics. The interrelationship of races, the development of a virgin country, the wide latitude for one’s activities accustom you to thinking in the large. Men talk little in the Tropics, but what they say has meaning.

There is less violence in the Philippines than in any other land. The people are gentle and courteous. In provincial towns, in lonely districts, an American or European woman can remain alone for days without fear of molestation. One can take long trips through the wildest mountain in perfect safety. Firearms for self defense need not even be thought of.

The Carnival grounds, Manila

Competition Less Severe Competition in Manila is not as severe as in other cities. Success is attained with greater ease. The routine of life is pleasant, and days pass quickly. In occidental cities one generally rushes through breakfast and rushes to his office. Also he rushes all the morning until 12 o’clock. Not so in the Philippines. He dictates in a few minutes his day’s correspondence which will probably leave port a week later, depending on the schedule of boats. Then he has new schemes to think over and conferences to hold with confrères. After this there is usually considerable time for ice cream and further conferences outside. He probably visits his bank and the cable office, and does some more thinking. If he is a salesman, he has to talk with prospective customers. At all events he is a very busy man, with a dozen plans for expansion working in his brain; but there is time, aeons of time. There is so much to be done and so little danger that the field will be overworked before he gets to it that he fears nothing. At 12 o’clock or thereabouts he goes back to his room for lunch. Afterwards he sleeps for two hours and drops back to his office. At 4 o’clock he goes out for tea, and at 5 o’clock, if the day has been a hard one, he knocks off for golf or tennis or a swim, or goes back to his siesta chair for rest. After supper at 8 o’clock, if he is socially inclined, he organizes a party for a cabaret and spends a pleasant evening. Otherwise he plays cards or billiards at his club. The next day repeats, and so on. He is never hurried, never tired, never worried.