our history, was in the embarrassing circumstances the wisest and the most economical course to pursue; certainly none of the alternative plans promised immediate satisfactory results. Still we have assumed grave financial responsibilities in a Caribbean state where the political fabric is of the flimsiest and the ideas of law and order, among the classes which have too often directed the destinies of the country, but rudimentary. For fifty years to come at least, the custom-houses of Santo Domingo are as much under our protection and control as are the custom-houses of Portland, New York, or Galveston. It cannot be denied that we have assumed in a sense a financial protectorate over Santo Domingo, a financial tie which, as between a strong state and a weak one, has in the past in other quarters of the globe almost invariably led to a closer political connection. We have undeniably assumed responsibilities which may become at any moment extremely onerous. We are not only bound to protect Santo Domingo from foreign enemies (that was often our function in former days), but now we will have to suppress all revolutionary movements which shall endanger the orderly collection of the customs, and this they all do, as the possession of a custom-house alone furnishes the sinews of war. It is also well to remember-though the line of thought suggested is an unpleasant one-that there are two or three other Latin-American states bordering on the Caribbean whose fiscal affairs are as ripe for American intervention as were those of the luckless Dominican Republic three years ago.

Exhibiting that false pride which apes humility, I shall not deny myself the pleasure of saying that in the government of Porto Rico, the first colony of our coun

try, our success has been remarkable. Not only have the thirteen years of our administration in this littleknown island been so many object lessons in capacity and in honesty to the Porto Ricans, but to the inhabitants of our so-called self-governing communities at home as well. To Porto Rico we have given unsparingly of our best and our most intelligent, and in a new field the assimilative and governmental genius of our race has been strikingly displayed. Indeed, I hold that we are under a debt of gratitude to these islanders. We have not only won laurels in their service, but our pockets have profited, which is always a pleasant fact to chronicle in this age of relentless economic struggle.

The Porto Ricans, especially the landowners, have grown rich under the protection of our flag and fostering tariffs, beyond the dreams which even the most avaricious among them permitted themselves in the days before our coming, and our own commerce and industries have greatly profited by their prosperity. Custom-house statistics show that in the last fiscal year we have sold to Porto Rico $25,000,000 worth of goods, an amount which equals, if it does not perhaps surpass, the total of our business in the great markets of China. Here, indeed, trade has followed the flag, and in no other way can the potential value of the West Indian market be more strikingly illustrated than by insisting upon and emphasising these remarkable figures.

Porto Rico would be a terrestrial paradise but for a few political grievances, some real and some imaginary, which its inhabitants cherish, while just across the narrow seas the Dutch and Danish islands are going to rack and ruin, the French islands seem to be drifting steadily toward a race struggle of the Santo

Domingo variety, while even in the English islands the crowded blacks, with all their loyalty to the Union Jack, under which they have for so long enjoyed liberty and even-handed justice, are near starvation, as near as people can be who live in nature's most generous garden. It cannot be denied that these unfortunate people are beginning to say to themselves and sometimes aloud on the stump: "We wish we could work under the Stars and Stripes and return at night to sleep under the Union Jack. Isn't there some way that this could be arranged?"

In Mexico the fall of the Diaz dynasty in May, 1911, and the failure of the Madero régime to restore tranquillity to the country, natural and to be expected as it was, has projected another political problem into the arena of the Caribbean world; one that very nearly affects our interests and which may press very urgently for a solution at an early day. As an eyewitness of much that took place in Mexico during and after the revolution, I shall go into the conditions that exist in our sister republic at some length in another place.*

To resume, our colonial problem is one that presses for a formula. The question of what our legal relations should be to non-contiguous territory and to populations alien in race and in institutions, almost in civilisation, is one that should be engrossing the minds of our legislators and the best thought of our country. The trend towards colonial expansion is undoubtedly the principal phenomenon of the political world to-day. We cannot hope to escape the world currents in which all the great powers are involved, but we can renounce our present drifting course, we can formulate a policy, we can maintain some control of our ship of state.

*See also footnote at end of chapter.

France is profiting to-day very materially from the colonial empire which she had the courage to found, and the tenacity and forethought to foster while yet in the shadow of Sedan, and staggering under the burden of the German tribute. To-day the German emperor and his people with their highly-developed industries, avidous of new markets, would give the bones of many Pomeranian grenadiers for the colonial possessions which Bismarck spurned in his historic speech.

NOTE.-The United States Government has repeatedly refused to acknowledge the belligerency of the Orozquistas and the Zapatistas or any other faction or fraction of the present revolutionary movement in Mexico. That the administration in Washington will not change its views upon this very important question is often given by the revolutionists as the reason for and the justification of the outrages they have frequently inflicted upon Americans.

On the other hand, the Government in Washington has taken cognisance of a state of war in the neighbouring republic by two extremely significant acts: by the note of April 14th, 1912, signed by the Hon. Huntington Wilson, Acting Secretary of State, in which it was declared that the United States would hold both "Mexico and the Mexican people responsible for all wanton sacrificing or endangering of American property or interests" and by sending the army transport Buford down the west coast to relieve and bring away Americans who desired to leave Mexico.

Through Consul Letcher at Chihuahua the U. S. Government took the unusual step of putting itself into direct communication with General Orozco and warned him not only to respect the property interests of Americans and guard the persons of Americans from injury, but to recognise American Consular officers. President Madero, in his protest against the course which the administration pursued in this matter, said:

"The Mexican Government regrets exceedingly that your Government should have sent to Orozco a note identical with that to which I have the honour to reply."

CHAPTER II

CUBA-FOURTEEN YEARS AFTER

I CAME back to Cuba after an absence of ten years, enchained by the hospitality of the American navy. We of the little cruiser Tacoma made a pleasant voyage from San Juan, in Porto Rico, along the northern coast of Santo Domingo and Hayti, and it was especially pleasant when we got behind the line of northern reefs and the great rolling waves from the Western ocean had to stop bullying the 'prentice boys from the inland states and the captain's guest. We caught a glimpse, as we went by, of Samana Bay, which Grant coveted so ardently, and we had a sight of the lee shore of old Cape Francis, where Barney and many another of our revolutionary naval heroes led apparently the roystering lives of gentlemen adventurers when their ungrateful country, having no further need of their services, left them to shift for themselves.

Mole St. Nicholas we saw, or imagined we saw, in the soft, tropical haze, and then Cape Maisi rose out of the sea. There was no mistaking this familiar Caribbean landmark.

We had been steaming through a solitary sea without a ship or a sail, when, suddenly, we came into the broad way of the Windward Passage. Fruit steamers came up out of the Jamaican horizon, all flying our flag and saluting our captain's ensign. It was like getting home again. But to the captain and to me the