rate to keep these pavements clean and in repair, and the sanitary value of them is not the least to be considered.
Horses's hoofs tear up streets more than the wheels of wagons. The horse brings more filth, dirt and disease to cities than almost any other agency, and with the horse eliminated we shall have clean, even streets, which are a comfort and substantial, benefit to any place that possesses them.
The horse will be relegated to the country, to those who love him well, to the plough and windrow, to the green meadows, far from the electric fever of great cities, where people are eager to benefit by the marvels of end-of-the-century science.
It will be some time yet before motor vehicles become cheaper. They are expensive to make, and the only factor that can act to cheapen them is the demand. People must buy them to diminish the price.
The history of the bicycle will be repeated on a gigantic scale in the development and use of the motor vehicle. I made my first bicycle in 1877. Only 92 wheels were sold that year. We are turning out 750 a day now, and, should the exigency arise, could increase the number to 1,000.
I have said the horse, who has served us well and against whom I have not the slightest personal feeling, will be relegated to the country. But even in his green retreat will he be followed by his Nemesis, with a heart of petroleum or electricity.
As the utility of the motor vehicles becomes more widespread they will traverse country roads in sufficient numbers to necssitate the placing of charging stations in the principal country hotels. So it will come to pass that while you are sitting at your meal, instead of having horses watered and fed, your vehicle will be getting stored with the energy to take you along the next stretch of your journey.
In Europe the motor vehicle is becoming popular—it is very much so in Paris, where the condition of the streets is such as the motor will eventually bring about here. We recently received an order for 100 vehicles for Berlin, which we will not fill.
If the horse is finally forced from the country-side—and that is not likely to happen for many years—I am not enough of a prophet to foresee just what will become of him. If indeed he at last becomes extinct he will exemplify a principle as old as civilization—that great progress is built upon the extinction of old forms. If he must go the horse will finish with the consolation of a race well run.—Colonel Albert A. Pope in the New York Sunday Journal.
Copyright, 1899, by Harper & Brothers.
Manila is always interesting, the Manila of the old days especially so, one of the most romantic, richest, and fairest cities of the sleepy East. Warmed by the tropical sun, cooled by the breezes of the Pacific, it was blessed with features of climate and commerce which permitted men to grow rich while at the same time they lived lazy and contented. It was the ideal home for the Spanish official or adventurer who wished to seek his fortune in distant colonies, and yet enjoy a life which forever reminded him of sunny Spain. The Spaniards did indeed become rich, but only through their cruel oppression of the natives, and during their rule, lasting almost four hundred years, the islands remained practically undeveloped. Apart from beauti-
