Up to the Rebellion of 1896 the placid word of the ecclesiastic, the superstitious veneration which he inspired in the ignorant native, had a greater law-binding effect than the commands of the civil functionary. The gownsman used those weapons appropriate to his office which best touched the sensibilities and won the adhesion of a rude audience. The priest appealed to the soul, to the unknown, to the awful and the mysterious. Go where he would, the convert's imagination was so pervaded with the mystic tuition that he came to regard his tutor as a being above common humanity. The feeling of dread reverence which he instilled into the hearts of the most callous secured to him even immunity from the violence of brigands, who carefully avoided the man of God. In the State official the native saw nothing but a man who strove to bend the will of the conquered race to suit his own. A Royal Decree or the sound of the cornet would not have been half so effective as the elevation of the Holy Cross before the fanatical majority, who became an easy prey to fantastic promises of eternal bliss, or the threats of everlasting perdition. Nor is this assertion by any means chimerical, for it has been proved on several occasions, notably in the raising of troops to attempt the expulsion of the British in 1763, and in the campaign against the Sultan of Sulu in 1876. But through the Cavite Conspiracy of 1872 (_vide_ p. 106) the friars undoubtedly hastened their own downfall. Many natives, driven to emigrate, cherished a bitter hatred in exile, whilst others were emerging yearly by hundreds from their mental obscurity. Already the intellectual struggle for freedom from mystic enthralment had commenced without injury to faith in things really divine.