pired, in Pampanga Province,
to establish a Miraculous Saint, by concealing an image in a field
in order that it should "make itself manifest to the faithful,"
and thenceforth become a source of income.

It is notorious that in a church near Manila, a few years ago,
an image was made to move the parts of its body as the reverend
preacher exhorted it in the course of his sermon. When he appealed
to the Saint, it wagged its head or extended its arms, whilst the
female audience wept and wailed. Such a scandalous disturbance did
it provoke that the exhibition was even too monstrous for the clergy
themselves, and the Archbishop prohibited it. But religion has many
wealth-producing branches. In January, 1889, a friend of mine showed
me an account rendered by the Superior of the Jesuits' School for
the education of his sons, each of whom was charged with one peso as
a gratuity to the Pope, to induce him to canonize a deceased member
of their Order. I have been most positively assured by friends, whose
good faith I ought not to doubt, that San Pascual Bailon really has,
on many occasions, had compassion on barren women (their friends)
and given them offspring. Jose Rizal, in his "Noli me tangere" hints
that the real Pascual was a friar.

Trading upon the credulity of devout enthusiasts by fetishism and
shrine quackery is not altogether confined to the ecclesiastics. A
Spanish layman in Yloilo, some few years ago, when he was an official
of the prison, known as the "Cotta," conceived the idea of declaring
that the Blessed Virgin and Child Jesus had appeared in the prison
well, where they took a bath and disappeared. When, at length,
the belief became popular, hundreds of natives went there to get
water from the well, and the official imposed a tax on the pilgrims,
whereby he became possessed of a modest fortune, and owned two of
the best houses in the Square of Yloilo.

The Feast of Tigbauang (near Yloilo), which takes place in January,
is also much frequented on account of the miracles performed by
the patron Saint of the town. The faith in the power of this minor
divinity to dispel bodily suffering is so deeply rooted that members
of the most enlightened families of Yloilo and the neighbouring towns
go to Tigbauang simply to attend High Mass, and return at once. I
have seen steamers entering Yloilo from this feast so crowded with
passengers that there was only standing room for them.

An opprobrious form of religious impo