to talking of us, and it inspired our politicians with dreams of empire. Such dreams are far from the waking thoughts of our people, though while the spell was on us we made some movement toward turning them into action. These steps taken in folly our nation must retrace. It is not pleasant to go backward. For this reason those responsible for our mistakes insist that we are sworn to go ahead whatever the consequences. Political futures are involved in the success of these schemes. And so every effort has been used to rush us forward in the direction of conquest. Our volunteer soldiery is held as an army of invasion to rot in the marshes when summer comes, as brave men once rotted in Libby and Andersonville. Each step in the series has been planned so as to make the next seem inevitable. To stop to reconsider our steps is made to appear as backing down. The American people will not back down and on this fact the whole movement depends. This movement was not a conspiracy, because every step was proclaimed from the housetops and shouted back from the newspapers and the mobs around the railway stations. No wonder the fighting editor claims to dictate our national policy. The current of "manifest destiny" is invoked as the cover for the movement of Imperialism. At each step, too, the powers that be assure us that they are not responsible for the invisible forces of Divine Providence have taken matters from their hands. In the one breath we are told that it is the will of God that we should annex the Philippines and make civilized American Christians of their medley population. In another, we must crush out the usurper, Aguinaldo, drive his rebel followers to the swamps and fastnesses and build up institutions with the coward remnant that survive. All this is in the line of least resistance. Along this line Spain ruled and plundered her colonies. In such fashion her colonies impoverished and corrupted Spain. Because she had no moral force. to prevent it, cruelty and corruption became her manifest destiny. It will be ours if we follow her methods. Toward such a manifest destiny, "the tumult and the shouting" of to-day are hurrying us along. The destiny which is manifest is never a noble one. The strong currents of history run deep, and the fates never speak through the daily newspapers. "Hard are the steps, rough-hewn in flintiest rock, States climb to power by." Providence acts only through men with strong brain and pure heart. The hand of Providence is never at the helm when no hand of man is there. Nations like men must learn to say No, when Yes is fatal. To have the courage to stop throwing good money after bad is the way nations keep out of bankruptcy. To back out now, we are told, would expose us to the ridicule of all the nations. But to go on will do the same. It is we who have made ourselves ridiculous. We have already roused the real distress of all genuine friends in Europe, because we have given the lie to our own history and to our own professions. That a wise, strong, peaceful nation should rise and fight for the freedom of the oppressed, rescuing them with one strong blow, touches the imagination of the world. The admiration fades into disgust in view of the vulgar scramble for territory and commercial advantage, and the inability of those responsible to guide the course of events in any safe direction. The funny I know that words of this sort are not welcome. papers have their jokes about Senator Hoar and Cassandra, a person who once took a dark view of things in very gloomy times. But there are occasions when optimism is treason. Only an accomplice is cheerful in presence of a crime. The crisis once past we may rejoice in the future of democracy. It is a hopeful sign to-day that the people have never consented, nor have those directing affairs dared trust the plain issue of annexation either to the people or to Congress. Their schemes must pass through indirection, or not at all. We need a cheerful and successful brigand like Cecil Rhodes to pat us on the back and stiffen our failing nerves. He is not afraid. Why should we flinch from the little misdeeds we have in contemplation? Alfred Russell Wallace, in the London Chronicle, expresses the disappointment and sorrow which I feel in common, I am sure, with a large body of English and Americans, at the course now being pursued by the government of the United States toward the people of Cuba and the Philippine Islands. "The Americans claim the right of sovereignty obtained by the treaty and have apparently determined to occupy and administer the whole group of Islands against the will and consent of the people. They claim all the revenues of the country and all the public means of transport, and they have decided to take all this by military force if the natives do not at once submit. Yet they say that they come 'not as invaders and conquerors, but as friends, to protect the natives in their homes, their employments and their personal and civil rights,' and for the purpose of giving them a liberal form of government through representatives of their own race.' But these people who have been justly struggling for freedom are still spoken of as 'insurgents' or 'rebels,' and they are expected to submit quietly to an altogether new and unknown foreign rule which, whatever may be the benevolent intentions of the President, can hardly fail to be a more or less oppressive despotism. "It may be asked what can the Americans do? They cannot allow Spain to come back again, and . . . . they are responsible for the future of the inhabitants. But surely it is possible to revert to their first expressed intention of taking a small island only as a naval and coaling station and to declare themselves the protectors of the Islands against foreign aggression. "Having done this they might invite the civilized portion of the natives to form an independent government, offering them advice and assistance if they wish for it, but otherwise leaving them completely free. If we express our disappointment (as Englishmen) that our American kinsfolk are apparently following our example, it is because, in the matter of the rights of every people to govern themselves, we had looked up to them as about to show us the better way by respecting the aspirations towards freedom, even of less advanced races, and by acting in accordance with their own noble traditions and republican principles." Do we say that these obligations were entailed by chance, and that we cannot help ourselves? I hear many saying, "If only Dewey had sailed out of Manila Harbor, all would have been well." This seems to me the acme of weakness. Dewey did his duty at Manila; he has done his duty ever since. Let us do ours. If his duty makes it harder for us, so much the more we must strive. It is pure cowardice to throw the responsibility on him, Who are we to "plead the baby act?" If Dewey captured land we do not want to hold, then let go of it. It is for us to say, not for him. It is foolish to say that our victory last May settled once for all our future as a world power. It is not thus that I read our history. Chance decides nothing. The Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, the Emancipation of the Slaves, were not matters of chance. They belong to the category of statesmanship. A statesman knows no chance. It is his business to foresee it and to control it. Chance is the terror of despotism. A chance shot along the frontier of Alsace, a chance brawl in Hungary, a chance word in Poland, a chance imbecile in the seat of power, may throw all Europe into war. In a general war the nations of Europe, their dynasties, and their thrones, will burn like stubble in a prairie fire. Our foundation is less combustible. Our Constitution is something more than a New Year's resolution to be broken at the first chance temptation. The Republic is, indeed, in the gravest peril if chance and passion are to be factors in her destiny. One of the ablest of British public men, one known to all of us as a staunch friend of the United States through the Civil War when our allies in the present British Ministry could not conceal their hatred and contempt, writes in a private letter these words to me: "I could not say this in my public writings," he says, and so I do not give his name, "but it seems to me that expansionism has in it a large element of sheer vulgarity, in the shape of a parvenu desire for admission into the imperialist and military camp of the old world," This is the whole story. Our quasi-alliance with Aguinaldo obliges us to see that he and his followers do not rot in Spanish pris ons. Here or about here our obligation ends, though our interest in freedom might go further. "Sheer vulgarity" does the rest. The desire to hold a new toy, to enjoy a new renown, to feel a new experience, or the baser desire to gain money by it, is at the bottom of our talk about the new destiny of the American republic and the new obligations which this destiny entails. We have set our national heart on the acquisition of the Philippines to give Old Glory a chance in a distant sea, to do something. unheard of in our past history. We look on every side for justification of this act and the varied excuses we can invent we call our obligations. We have saved Manila from being looted by the barbarians. This may be true, though we have not the slightest evidence that it was ever in such danger. But we have made it a veritable hell on earth. Its saloons, gaming halls and dives of vice have to-day few parallels in all the iniquitous world. But we have incurred, some say, the obligation to civilize and christianize the Filipinos, and to do this we must annex them, that our missionaries may be safe in their work. 'The free can conquer but to save." This is the new maxim for the ensign of the Republic, replacing the "consent of the governed," and "government by the people," and the worn out phrases of our periwigged fathers, But to christianize our neighbors is no part of the business of our government. It is said by Dr. Worcester, our best authority on the Filipinos, that "as a rule the grade of their morality rises with the square of the distance from churches and other civilizing influences." This means that the churches are not keeping up with our saloons and gaming houses. If they are not we cannot help them. Missionary work of Americans as against Mohammedanism, Catholicism, or even heathenism our government cannot aid. It is our boast, and a righteous one, that all religion is equally respected by our State. It has been the strength of our foreign missionaries that they never asked the support of armies. "The force of arms," said Martin Luther, "must be kept far from matters of the Gospel." The courage of devoted men and women and the power of the Word, such is the only force they demand. When the flag and the police are sent in advance of the Bible, missionaries fall to the level of ordinary politicians. It is the lesson of all history that the religious forms of aspirations of any people should be respected by its government. From Java, the most prosperous of Oriental vassal nations, all missionaries are rigidly excluded. They are disturbers of industry. It is the lesson of England's experience that all forms of government should be equally respected. In no case has she changed the form however much she may have altered the administration. Success in the control of the tropical races no nation has yet achieved, for no one has yet solved the problem of securing industry without force, of making money without some form of slavery. But those nations which have come nearest solution have most respected the religions and prejudices and governmental forms of the native people. Individual men may struggle as they will against heathenism. government must recognize religions as they are. A It is said again that the whole matter does not deserve half the words given it. We destroyed the government, such as it was, in Cuba and Manila; we must stay until we have repaired the mischief. When we have set things going again it will be time to decide what to do. The answer to this is that it is not true. We are not repairing the damages anywhere, but are laying our plans for permanent military occupation, which is Imperialism. Those responsible for these affairs have kept annexation steadily in view. It is safe to say that there is no intention to withdraw even from Cuba, or to permit any form of self-government there, until American influences shall dominate. It is not because the governed have some intangible right to consent that we object to this, but because the machinery of democracy, which is acquiesence in action, will not work without their co-operation. But we must take the Philippines, some say, because no other honorable course lies before us. Some civilized nation must own them; Spain is out of the question; so are the other nations of Europe, while Aguinaldo and the Filipinos themselves, "big children that must be treated like little ones," are unworthy of trust and incapable of good government. But, again, what guarantee is there that we shall give good government? When did it become our duty to see that anarchy and corruption are expelled from semi-barbarous regions? When did we learn how to do it? We have had six months in which to think about it. Who has ever suggested a plan ? For thirty years we have misgoverned Alaska* with open eyes and even now scarcely a visible * Last week, according to the Springfield Republican, Senator Carter asked unanimous consent for the consideration of a code of laws for Alaska. "Various |