and numerous skilled gardeners make it possible to care for large garden spaces, each little and large space being devoted to the exhibit, not alone in specially setapart grounds, but in odd corners by buildings and between them. Not only do they attend to those simpler flowers which adorn everybody's home, but the unusual, the rarely beautiful and the exotic are everywhere. Naturally, the display here is one of the most imposing features of the entire grounds, as the Orient without fruits and flowers would be a delusion. The forcing houses defy description. Enormous palms, thirty or forty feet high, stand aloft; and the lakelets are rich with divers sorts of aquatic plants, with grand flowers of ravishing colors and agreeable odors, their immense leaves floating on the surface. Skill in shaping ornamental grass plats, and in interspersing them with floral arrangements, reveals to us the superiority of these French and Oriental gardeners.

I have not mentioned the abundance of mural decorations in this line of buildings. Painters are a drug in the market in France and they are talented, trained and original. In the administration palace is a collection of pictures by artists who make a specialty of doing oriental subjects. There are two divisions of the exhibition: painters of to-day, whose names are not familiar to us in America, though many of them will soon become known, and those whom we do know because they belong to the immediate past. I am not sure which of these is the more attractive, though represented among the old men are Decamps, Delacroix, Gérôme, Fromentin, Regnault, Horace, Vernet, Renoir, Manet, all great. The collection, both old and young, is decidedly worth crossing the ocean to see.

The exposition retrospective-historic is fine also, including paintings, engravings and especially bibelots. As might be imagined, these articles of art are remarkably fine, including as they do all the exquis te jewelry, pottery, draperies, silks and woolens of these nations of fine color sense and decorative feeling. Arms of marvelous beauty and ornamentation are abundant, and they include historical souvenirs associated with the warriors of France and those equally honored of the half-civilized races with whom they fought.

It is strange to note how much more exquisite the arms of the savages are than those of the civilized race, though the latter shoot better. But the swords of the savages put those of their mentors to shame. Flags, fetters (barbarous things), tribal torture machines and wonderful robes all teach a lesson in patriotism and a lesson in art, even the robe de chambre of a famous French general who got himself killed before he could clamber into his epaulettes. Over all this space one sees the sculptured ornamentation, the statues and the portrait busts which France produces so abundantly.

Passing out into the avenues and alleys one is impressed by the evidences of the love of prettiness by the French. They believe that an exposition should have a festive air and that long strings of garlands in electric lights, suspensions of artificial flowers in tissue paper, flags and more flags, as well as flowering urns and fountains, are essentials. Indeed they do ornament the place wonderfully, though often too prettified. All these ornaments form a veil to the picturesqueness of the Algerian building, which lifts its tall minaret white against the blue sky. Towers, pagodas and other tall structures show us here how much we missed at the World's Fair in St. Louis, where there were none because the money gave out too early and the management had to shear the good plans.

Beautiful arrays of colonettes range themselves around the interior courts of these long-drawn-out collections of the mosques and palaces of Algiers, fountains play, statues range themselves suitably, and the floral display makes it all like a fairyland. Inside are showings of the wheat that we have introduced so favorably in our own country, the hard grain of Africa which promises to improve our bread. Cork wood, dates, wines, brandies and other articles both useful and injurious, but all good for money-making, make an array which fatigues as well as instructs. All these African pavilions are filled with the same sort of produce nearly, but we were not prepared to find iron, zinc and hydraulic cements in this hot country. Naturally the tobacco and olive oil met our expectations. Over in the Exportation Palace we saw French champagne for the Africans, and here we

see superior native wines coming the other way. The forests of Algeria must be sweet smelling, if one may judge by the abundance of perfumed woods. It seems that there are native picture-painters, in European manner, in Africa, though their works will never set the world on fire.

Tunis became a French province, a protectorate, some time since, much to the disgust of the people of Italy, who nearly went to war about it. The Tunisian pavilion is one of the best on the grounds, surrounding a fine large court. Tunis was once the Carthage of history and its ancient relics arrest the attention seriously, though the chalks, cements, fruits and garments of marvelous weave make such a mixture of impressions that we think that this is the same as Algeria. By the way, the clever building made of native woods shows us a new form of log house, delightful to see, and proving that modern architects can outdo our practical forefathers in using timber. This is "artnouveau" in logs. They stand upright and recall primitive pillars and colonnades in a new style.

That island in the Indian Ocean, next the southern part of Africa, Madagascar, seems to please the French intensely, probably because of its cost to them. The architecture of the pavilion is nearly the same as that of Tunis. Laces and straw hats ("Panamas") are largely in evidence, and they seem to be proud of funeral rites in which many oxen are barbecued, though it does not state that any of these are exported. Rice and gold dust are candidates for exportation honors. Music seems to be the favorite distraction of the Malgache, so silently do they seat themselves, all in dignified costumes, around the valiha players. Coconut fiber has been a source of riches to the Malgache since time was, and they must export much of it, judging by the exhibits here. But I really think that they should be most honored for their clothes and peculiar stuffs.

Probably no one will linger long in the exposition of the products of the French Congo, though ivory, rubber, gum copal, copper, tobacco, coffee and vanilla are good for trade. Dahomey is on hand, but I did not see the Amazon warriors, its principal product according to some accounts. There is a grouping of most interesting

villages and a showing of home life that interests every one, and the main pavilion is one of the good things on the grounds. There is a sobriety about its unbroken stretches of wall, crowned by a coping pierced with what look like port holes to shoot through. In the center is a strange tower, massive and substantial, crowned by an unfamiliar sort of colonnade and a solid, square cupola.

Indo-China has more attention than most of the other colonies. The visitor who arrives by the grand avenue, before its collection of strange edifices, stops astonished by the vision of this far-off Orient, which gives him such an ensemble of roofs with points erect like horns, of porcelain dragons, of bridges, of a tower and the numberless palaces lost amid the gardens of strange composition, in which are united the most precious specimens of the flora of the Chinese. In approaching we traverse one of three bridges crossing a lagoon. These are so very peculiar in shape that we seem to find here the source of the style, "art-nouveau." They simulate stone, have massive piers at the corners, and others half way across, massive ramps, and rectilinear panels of fine tracery. I wish most heartily that some architect would copy one of them for a Chicago park. On occasions of ceremony the middle one is used by the king, the mandarins of civil service pass by the one on the right, and military mandarins by the left one. Dragons and chimeras guard the entrances and the whole effect is picturesque but seriously dignified.

This section comprises the exhibits of Tongking, of Anam, of Cochin-China, of Laos, of Cambodia and of KouangChu-Va, all provinces under the dominion of France. Various views down the sample streets of Chinese towns leave but a confused impression of pie-crust houses with brilliantly painted trimmings around the eaves, the doorways and on the very peculiar carved wooden dogs which linger by the pathways and hang to the eaves. Interspersed with these are magnificent blue and white porcelain jars and ge sang-de-boeuf vases. The wonderful ardens are not to be described at all, nor do we understand them any more than we understand an oriental puzzle. These trees and shrubs are simply strange. though sometimes beautiful. Imagine the

collection of unnamable garden tools, carts, utensils, household furniture and religious apparatus, and add to these mysteries the people themselves, the least understood of all.

The great Palace of Exportation contains the chamber of commerce of the city of Marseilles and the business booths of merchants in all lines of commerce, as well as a huge festival hall. It is a fine specimen of architecture, a rectangle of some 450 feet in length by over 200 in depth. Its exterior presents a long colonnade all around, broken in the center by a projecting pavilion in front of which

is the invariable chateau d'eau, in comparison with that of greater expositions small, but here decidedly in good taste. Over this series of waterfalls stands the usual sculptured figure, properly symbolical of what no one knows without the guide book. But it is all very pretty.

Of the real significance of the educational and religious enterprises, all elaborately presented and bravely insisted upon, it is impossible to judge, and each one must come to such conclusions on the subject as his prejudices dictate. It looks as if there would be no more heathen in a few days.

HERE has always been a "Cuban question" in the United States. There probably always will be. A glance at the map tells why. The geographical position of the island is such as to make its political condition of vital importance to this country. As things have developed it would not have been particularly strange if Cuba had come under the rule of the United States a century ago. The accession of Louisiana with its vast areas, much of it unexplored, roamed over by restless Indian tribes, and settled by people of different language, institutions and laws from those of the young republic, was a far more hazardous experiment, when it is considered in all its bearings after the lapse of a hundred years. In all probability, if President Jefferson had favored the proposition made to him by a Cuban delegation that the island should be annexed, long before this time it would have taken its place as an orderly, prosperous and profitable part of the nation.

In declining to encourage the suggestion of annexation President Jefferson established the policy of the country. For he made it clearly known that this country would not look with complacency upon the transfer of Cuba to France or England. He also suggested that the interests of the island and the mainland were one, so far as the exclusion of European influence from this continent was concerned.

The position of the United States since that day has been fairly consistent. It has been content to allow Cuba to remain outside the borders of the republic, but it has kept a watchful eye upon possible contingencies that might put the control into the hands of France or England. Many of its citizens have been ardent advocates of annexation. They have given their political influence. They have contributed funds. They have joined filibustering expeditions in which some of them lost their lives. But the great majority of citizens have been content with the conditions existing and have not been won over to the radical propositions for control. There is little doubt that a

prime factor in this situation was the deep-seated feeling against the possession of any territory not contiguous to that of the original states.

When the years are reviewed in the light of present-day ideas of the position of the United States as a world power, it is really curious that the anomalous situation in Cuba should have been tolerated so long. From the beginning it has been recognized that Cuba is the key to the Gulf of Mexico. Its importance in connection with the navigation of the Mississippi and with the commercial interests of the vast region which that river drains, appears at a glance. Its relationship to Its relationship to any problems affecting an inter-oceanic canal or railway on the Panama isthmus was evident three-quarters of a century ago. Its ownership by any strong power was early feared as a serious menace to American peace and happiness. And yet the government, as such, has given its influence almost continually toward the preservation of the status quo in Cuba. If Cuba and the Cubans have not had a fair chance for self-development, it has not been the fault of the United States, unless, as suggested above, a mistake was made a century ago when we took Louisiana and reached out for the Floridas. That the President was thinking of Cuba, too, is perfectly apparent from one of his letters of 1809.

There was activity everywhere just then. The figure of Napoleon was dominant. He had crossed the Pyrenees and dethroned the reigning monarch. The Spanish-American colonies, long discontented with Castilian tyranny, were planning revolution. The French dream of western empire was not yet entirely impossible, despite the cession of Louisiana. The Floridas, Cuba, San Domingo, and smaller islands would bring wealth and prosperity. The French privateers, cruising in the vicinity of Cuba, had done much damage to American vessels during the exciting years at the close of the last century, and Jefferson was not the only one who saw that the gulf trade would be imperilled if France ever secured Cuba. That is why he declared that Napoleon must be induced to consent to our receiving Cuba into the Union. He himself was having roseate dreams then, for, with a column on the southernmost limit of

Cuba, inscribed ne plus ultra, and the certain addition of Canada at the first war with England he foresaw an "empire of liberty" such as was never seen since creation. Napoleon's plan to shut out the United States from the gulf and to recreate a French imperial domain in America was clearly defined. It was lucky in more ways than one that he found his hands full upon the other continent.

The English scare followed close upon the French. The success of their armies near home made it possible for them to think more of the war in America. During the years between 1810 and the battle of New Orleans there were frequent rumors of British activity along the southern border. The fear of it entered into the seizure of West Florida; the same thing was mentioned in orders relating to the possible capture of East Florida. It is entirely likely that Cuba was an important element in connection with the great expedition whose hopes were so rudely shattered by Jackson on January 8. Again there was much of the element of luck that saved Cuba. The English fear was revived during the struggle of Texas for independence and annexation. It came again when the protectorate over the mosquito coast was reasserted, as the discovery of gold pointed to the future importance of the isthmian way to the Pacific. In every such revival of the English thought, or of the American fear of English thought, the importance of Cuba to the United States was alarmingly apparent.

Then came the slavery controversy, and the larger viewpoint was lost in the presence of the smaller. The abolition extremist was opposed to any further extension of territory in the interests of slavery. The average northern man was not easily aroused to enthusiasm in the matter. Every southern movement, of course, was at once stamped as an added aggression of slavery. The revolutionary uprisings came and went in Cuba. The filibustering expeditions were organized with enthusiasm and ended in the garotte. The Spanish oppression of centuries continued unchecked. But there was no possibility of any consensus of opinion favoring annexation, and such declarations as those embodied in the famous Ostend manifesto received prompt characteriza

The United States situation as to slavery saved Cuba for forty years, even despite diplomatic questions connected with that institution which showed the danger of a foreign island so near our shores, and might have been counted sufficient ground for hostile designs, had it not been for the divided condition of our own country.

The strategic importance of Cuba during the Civil War again called attention to its geography. What dangers threatened from that source when the enemy was a part of the nation, loomed up larger when the thought contemplated England or France in possession of such a stronghold right at our doors, blocking the gateway to the commerce of millions, and presenting a constant menace to our peace and prosperity.

That the island has been permitted to remain out of our possession during the one hundred and thirty years of American national life has been due to the national policy. But when one recalls the reasons for which other nations have

seized territory in like relationship to themselves, our national policy seems to have been peculiarly strange. The dreams of Napoleon, the imperial projects of England, the nerveless struggles of decadent Spain, the visions of enthusiasts from Miranda down, the designs of the slave power, the effects of the discovery of gold, the acquisition of Louisiana and Florida and Texas, the Mexican war cessions, the isthmian canal activities, the Monroe doctrine, the thoughts of Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, Jackson, John Quincy Adams and men of later schools-all these are blended in a strange panorama of American history in which Cuba is ever present, a source of anxiety, a disturbing element, and yet left outside the domain of the only power whose mastery of the western continent seemed a certainty from the standpoint of manifest destiny. If the United States had taken Cuba a century ago history would record it as a natural and proper outcome of conditions. That it has not yet made it a part of its domain indicates the remarkable forbearance which has marked its attitude during all the troublous years.

XACTLY at noon, May 20, 1902, BrigadierGeneral Leonard Wood, terminating a most creditable administration of the military and civil affairs of Cuba, hauled down the American flag at the Governor's palace in Havana and turned over the reins of government to the first president of the new republic, Thomas Estrada Palma. Four years and four months later, September 19, 1906, William H. Taft and Robert Bacon, specially commissioned by the President of the United States, arrived at Havana for the purpose, if possible, of saving the young nation from an untimely death, and

of preserving, at all events, the public peace and security. Ten days later, after having striven in vain to effect a reasonable compromise between the contending parties, the American commissioners, reluctant and disappointed, were compelled to establish a provisional government in the name of the United States.

The gravity of the situation that called for action by President Roosevelt under the "Platt Amendment" was not generally appreciated in the United States. It was a situation absurd and anomalous, but it was serious in the extreme. Had the President acted less promptly than he did, it is almost certain that the Cuban government would have given way to anarchy, that the rich and beautiful city of Havana would have been at the mercy