whom help themselves with their fingers out of a common dish. The
worthy padre of Batu introduced a couple of pretty girls to me as
his two poor sisters, whom, in spite of his poverty, he supported;
but the servants about the place openly spoke of these young ladies'
babies as being the children of the priest.

[The native clergy.] The guiding principle of Spanish colonial
policy--to set one class against another, and to prevent either from
becoming too powerful--seems to be the motive for placing so many
native incumbents in the parsonages of the Archipelago. The prudence of
this proceeding, however, seems doubtful. A Spanish priest has a great
deal of influence in his own immediate circle, and forms, perhaps,
the only enduring link between the colony and the mother-country. The
native priest is far from affording any compensation for the lack
of either of these advantages. He generally is but little respected
by his flock, and certainly does nothing to attach them to Spain;
for he hates and envies his Spanish brethren, who leave him only the
very worst appointments, and treat him with contempt.

[Nabua.] I rode from Batu to Nabua over a good road in half an
hour. The country was flat, with rice-fields on both sides of the
road; but, while in Batu the rice was only just planted, in Nabua it
already was almost ripe. I was unable to obtain any explanation of
this incongruity, and know not how to account for such a difference
of climate between two hamlets situated in such close proximity to
one another, and separated by no range of hills. The inhabitants of
both were ugly and dirty, and were different in these respects from
the Tagalogs. Nabua, a place of 10,875 inhabitants, is intersected by
several small streams, whose waters, pouring down from the eastern
hills, form a small lake, which empties itself into the river