The methods employed in this legalized system of robbery are medieval in character, but often highly ingenious.  One of them is the “cedula personal,” a sort of passport.  Every person in the islands and over eighteen years of age and accessible to the authorities is required to take out one of these documents; even the women are not exempt.  The cedula must be renewed annually and the cost is from $1.50 to $25, according to circumstances—­the chief circumstances being the victim’s ability to pay.  This in a country where wages sometimes fall as low as five cents a day!  And any one who holds a cedula costing less than $3 is further required to render the government fifteen days of unremunerated labor.

Instances of petty extortion.

But the cedula is only one device out of many for extracting gold from the refractory ore of poverty.  A hungry native cannot kill his own hog or buffalo for meat without a special permit—­which, of course, must be paid for.  He is not allowed to press out a pint of cocoanut oil from the fruit of his own orchard until he has obtained a license, and this also has its price.  The orchard itself is taxed; everything is taxed in the Philippines.

The resident Chinese are further subjected to a special tax—­ whether for existing or for not being something else is not stated.  They are not popular and are treated with the most shameless injustice.  This the following incident will illustrate: 

Fires are very frequent in Manila and very destructive, most of the houses being of wood, while the poorer districts are a mere jumble of bamboo huts, thousands of which are sometimes consumed in a day without exciting much comment.  A fire in the business portion, however, arouses more interest; it affords opportunities that are not to be neglected.  On one such occasion, where the scene of conflagration was a quarter chiefly occupied by Chinese shops, the street was soon thronged with an eager mob.  The poor Chinamen, acting much like crazed cattle, had fled into their upper chambers and locked the doors, apparently preferring death by fire to the treatment they were likely to receive outside.  But there was no escape.

The “rescuers”—­Spanish soldiers—­quickly broke in with axes and after emptying the money boxes, hurled the wretched Mongolians and all their goods into the street, to be dealt with at discretion.  It was a mere pretext for robbery and outrage, as many of the shops were remote from the fire and in no danger.  The next morning the middle of the street was piled high with soiled and broken goods; and any one who cared to bribe the sentries was allowed to carry away as much as he pleased.  All day long the carts went to and fro, openly conveying away the plunder.  The owners were not in evidence; what had become of them is not recorded.  Such is the “fire department” in Manila.

Taxes are imposed for “improvements,” but no improvements are permitted even when backed by foreign capital.  The roads remain impassable canals of mud, education is a farce, the introduction of machinery is frowned upon and progress is obstructed.