Successful government by that sublime ethical essence called "moral philosophy" has fallen away before a more practical _regime_. Liberty to think, to speak, to write, to trade, to travel, was only partially and reluctantly yielded under extraneous pressure. The venality of the conqueror's administration, the judicial complicacy, want of public works, weak imperial government, and arrogant local rule tended to dismember the once powerful Spanish Empire. The same causes have produced the same effects in all Spain's distant colonies, and to-day the mother country is almost childless. Criticism, physical discovery of the age, and contact with foreigners shook the ancient belief in the fabulous and the supernatural; the rising generation began to inquire about more certain scientific theses. The immutability of Theology is inharmonious to Science--the School of Progress; and long before they had finished their course in these Islands the friars quaked at the possible consequences. The dogmatical affirmation "_qui non credit anathema sit_," so indiscriminately used, had lost its power. Public opinion protested against an order of things which checked the social and material onward movement of the Colony. And, strange as it may seem, Spain was absolutely impotent, even though it cost her the whole territory (as indeed happened) to remedy the evil. In these Islands what was known to the world as the Government of Spain was virtually the Executive of the Religious Corporations, who constituted the real Government, the members of which never understood patriotism as men of the world understand it. Every interest was made subservient to the welfare of the Orders. If, one day, the Colony must be lost to _them_, it was a matter of perfect indifference into whose hands it passed. It was their happy hunting-ground and last refuge. But the real Government could not exist without its Executive; and when that Executive was attacked and expelled by America, the real Government fell as a consequence. If the Executive had been strong enough to emancipate itself from the dominion of the friars only two decades ago, the Philippines might have remained a Spanish colony to-day. But the wealth in hard cash and the moral religious influence of the Monastic Orders were factors too powerful for any number of executive ministers, who would have fallen like ninepins if they had attempted to extricate themselves from the thraldom of sacerdotalism. Outside political circles there was, and still is in Spain, a class who shrink from the abandonment of ideas of centuries' duration. Whatever the fallacy may be, not a few are beguiled into thinking that its antiquity should command respect. The conquest of this Colony was decidedly far more a religious achievement than a military one, and to the _friars of old_ their nation's gratitude is fairly due for having contributed to her glory, but that gratitude is not an inheritance.