Europeans often seem to notice in them what they deem a lack of sympathy for the misfortunes of others; but it is not this so much as resignation to the inevitable. This, it must be confessed, saves them many a bitter pang. The educated native, however, impregnated with the bitter philosophy of the civilized world, is by no means so imperturbable. While more keenly alive to the sufferings of others, he is also more sensitive to his own sorrows. After all, whether he is any happier for his wisdom, is a question.
Incomprehensible inconsistencies obtain in nearly every native. Students of character may, therefore, study the Filipinos for years, and yet, at last, have no definite impression of their mental or moral status. Of course those living in the cities are less baffling to the physiognomist and the ethnologist; for endemic peculiarities have been rubbed off or so modified, that the racial traits are not obvious.
But observe the natives in the wilds, in their primitive abodes, where civilizing forces have not penetrated! You will then be amazed at the extraordinary mingling and clashing of antithetical characteristics in one and the same person; uncertain as to when the good or the bad may be manifested. Like the wind, the mood comes and goes,—and no one can tell why.
I myself, with all the inherited feelings, tastes, and tendencies of my countrymen,—modified and transmuted, happily,—have stood aghast or amused at some hitherto unknown characteristic suddenly manifesting itself in an intimate acquaintance; and after I had been for years, too, wholly ignorant of his being so possessed or obsessed. And after that, the same mental or moral squint would be displayed at irregular intervals.
It is said by some that the native is shiftless and improvident.
It is true that he is not noted for foresight and energy, as are the peoples of the temperate zones; but his indolence is the result of generations of tropical ancestors. Even the most energetic Europeans yield, in a few years, to the enervating effects of the climate, and are unable to shake off the lassitude bred by the heat. Besides, deprived by the Spaniards from all active participation in affairs of the Government, and robbed of the fruits of industry, all incentive to advancement and progress was taken away. He, therefore, yields with composure to the crushing conditions of his environment, preferring the lazy joys of indolence rather than labor for the benefit of his oppressors. Naturally. Recent events, however, show that, given the stimulant of hope, even the “indolent natives” of the Philippines can achieve and nobly dare.
Some Spaniards also have asserted that the Filipinos are naturally disloyal and treacherous, and that their word is not to be depended on.
Now, the whole world knows that they have every reason to be disloyal to the Spaniard, who has for centuries so cruelly oppressed them. The devotion to the cause of freedom, however, which has recently made Rizal and hundreds of others martyrs to Spanish cruelty, shows that they also have the stuff that heroes are made of, and that they can be loyal to an animating principle.
In many places the natives are unwilling to work without pay in advance, and this has been a great drawback to investors. For, after receiving their money, they frequently refuse to perform a stroke of work, knowing that their employer has no remedy except in the dilatory process of the courts, which would only increase his expense and exaggerate his troubles. This has no terrors for the native. While, of course, this is to be deprecated, it may be remedied by gaining the confidence of the natives; for it is undoubtedly the result of generations of Spanish robbery, where these people were forced to labor for their employers,—frequently the priests,—having no reward save the lash or promises of a golden crown in heaven. They, therefore, naturally look upon investors with some suspicion. However, in the more civilized districts, where modern and humane business methods prevail, hundreds of thousands are employed, to the profit both of themselves and their employers.
Though calm, the native is not secretive, but often loquacious. He is naturally curious and inquisitive, but always polite, and respectful withal—especially to his superiors. He is passionate, and, in common with all half-civilized races, is cruel to his foes. The quality of mercy, like the sentiment—as distinguished from the passion—of love, is perhaps more the product of the philosophy of civilization than a natural attribute of the human heart. The romantic history of Mediæval Europe, as compared with the placid present, is proof of this.