of the Porto Rican Tariff Bill exhibits clearly the spectacle of Congress bending its will at the behest of the ruler.

All this increased power was not among the things written down by the men who framed the Constitution.

It belongs to the unwritten Constitution of America, which, as we shall see, is growing up and covering the naked framework of the eighteenth-century instrument. It cannot be denied that the President's new power owes something to patronage reposed in him. Men whose political life depends upon the distribution of federal offices to themselves or their friends, will naturally defer to the man who is able adroitly to dangle the golden prizes just above their heads.

This may be deplorable, but it is only human nature after all. The fault lies with the system which renders it necessary for the President occasionally to use this lever. England has long since abolished the system; America must do so. It is this which enables a President to secure his renomination to office, notwithstanding the hostility of a strong minority in his party. At the Minneapolis National Convention of 1892, Mr. Harrison (himself an illustration of the increased respect manifested for hereditary claims) was renominated through the efforts and votes of office-holders appointed by him.

Granted that the President's power is partly due to his bounty, I believe it to be still more largely attributable to the spirit of centralization which characterizes the New America in a marked degree. The centripetal forces arise in the smallest and most remote villages, in the smallest and remotest States, and go to

swell the quotient of power which is being consolidated at Washington.

Communities need a figure-head; human nature dislikes an oligarchy. How much a democracy is capable of being dominated by a demagogue possessing eloquence and a personality is shown in the dramatic nomination of Mr. Bryan for the Presidency in 1896. With the lowering of the prestige of the States comes the necessity for a National leader, and in the President the people find one ready made. Their representatives in Congress are only representative when they leave the bosom of the electors. It is in the power of a President to disregard them by placing himself instantly en rapport with the whole people, who instantly respond to his hegemony.'

1

We are, by the way, witnessing the same phenomenon in the British Empire, where the power of, the Crown has within the last few years enormously increased by reason of the personal influence which it is able to exert, especially in the Kingdoms over-seas, over public opinion, which it would be rash for any British statesmen to disregard. More and more do the Colonies grow impatient of any restraint imposed upon them by the British Parliament, more and more do they tender their allegiance to the Imperial Crown. It is the symbol-no matter who the wearer-of their Imperial Unity. Americans are less impersonal; they are only in the infancy of symbolism; they expend their stock of loyalty in other ways. Womanhood in the

1 It is certain that the election of a politician to the exalted office of President invests him with a sense of national responsibility which is superior to party. That there have been a few instances when the President has elevated party above country only proves the rule.

abstract-a symbol; the national flag-another symbol. Yet the Presidential chair is gradually coming to be the centre and cynosure, the badge and the revered emblem of American world-power.

The late President's progress through California equalled that of any crowned head in the old world. It was a continuous ovation. The pathway of the chief of the New American Empire was, we are assured by an eye witness, literally strewn with roses, and all sorts and conditions of men and women united in doing him honour.

Curious illustrations of the increased respect and consideration for the ruler are to be found in the proposition to rebuild the executive mansion on a scale of great magnificence. In furnishing his Excellency with a body-guard and liveried out-riders, we see merely a return to Washingtonian practice. Did not the first President ride to open Congress in a coach-and-six, “like an English King?" I cannot forbear to cite one other instance, of still more recent occurrence.

1

The yacht Mayflower, which was purchased by the American Government at the time of the war with Spain, has just been refitted and refurnished, and put in commission for the use of President Roosevelt.

The despatch-boat Dolphin had hitherto been used as a Presidential yacht, but the Mayflower is a much larger and finer vessel, her displacement being 2690 tons, while the Dolphin's is only 1486 tons.

1 The Federalist suggestion that the image and symbols on the coinage might be made to have an educational bearing led in the early days of the republic to a proposal to stamp the head of the President on the coins. This proposal led to a heated debate. The suggestion has since been adopted with regard to the postage, although the head is not that of the reigning President.

There was a great public outcry when President Cleveland took the Dolphin for his private use, and the fact that public money was voted for a new Presidential yacht shows the great change in public opinion in ten years in America.

More power will come: a government with everincreasing interests and responsibilities cannot be "carried on by negatives." It is absurd to expect that the head of an administrative system should sit with folded hands waiting upon the pleasure of a body made up of persons not responsible in any way for that administration, and each acting under strong pressure from local and private interests.

The Americans are great time-savers, and the President can prepare and promulgate laws more promptly than Congress, which occupies too much time in adjusting conflicting questions. He can, in the same manner, instantly remedy any defects-a process which could not be achieved by Congress without tedious delay.

"It is easy to foresee the result," says Mr. Gamaliel Bradford,' speaking of a noisy and intriguing Congress. "A military Dictator will arise and sweep it away." "Our one hope of escape," he adds, "is by strengthening the executive.'

If only the executive could realize, in times of crisis, that the greater evil to the commonwealth lies in the non-exercise of the power reposed in him by the people! 1 "American Politics," vol. ii. p. 522.

CHAPTER III

EXPANSION AND IMPERIALISM

THE year 1898 was one of the epoch-marking years in the history of America.

In that annus mirabilis was decided the momentous question whether the United States were to continue their policy of political isolation, or were, as a united State, to take up a position amongst the world-powers, and, in the language of one native writer, "assume the unselfish obligations and responsibilities demanded by the enlightened civilization of the age.1

Prestige, we do not need to be told, is as highly valued by nations as by individuals. It was absurd to suppose that the inherited racial instincts, the restless activities and the aggressive enterprise of the American

1 During that fateful year the introspectiveness of Americans and the appeals of the articulate ones, such as politicians and editors, became pathetic. Take, at random, such a cri du cœur as this, which I cull from a prominent organ of public opinion: "Will our own people never learn that we are a nation? Have we shed vast quantities of blood and spent countless treasure in vain? Are we still to stand manacled before the world by the doctrine that we are a confederacy of sovereign states?" The writer then proceeds to quote the Supreme Court's dictum that "the United States are a sovereign and independent nation, and are vested by the Constitution with the entire control of international relations and with all the powers of government necessary to maintain that control and to make it effective."