words I have quoted. It is to-day the law under which the Porto Ricans live. By this law these unhappy persons cease to be citizens of Spain, and do not become citizens of the United States. They are only citizens of Porto Rico.

The first striking consequence is that tariff duties are imposed upon merchandise passing either way between Porto Rico and the United States; and these duties - the most important, and, in their effect upon the business of the island, the most far-reaching taxes which the inhabitants of Porto Rico pay are levied without their consent and against their protest by a legislature in which they have no representation. The inhabitant of every other territory save those acquired from Spain pays no such taxes, and in this respect the inhabitants of other territories enjoy powers and privileges denied to the inhabitants of Porto Rico. If "taxation without representation is tyranny," as we have always believed, this difference is not to be ignored.

But this is only one instance of a fundamental and vital distinction. The inhabitant of Porto Rico to-day has no constitutional rights.. If the provision of the Constitution which regulates taxes does not apply in Porto Rico, no other provision has any force in that island. Do you appreciate what this means? It means that such rights as Congress has now given Porto Rico may be taken away at its pleasure, and that the power of the President and Congress over the lives, the liberty, and the property of Porto Ricans is unfettered by any organic law. The struggle of men for freedom has been for centuries a struggle to restrain the absolute power of the ruler by constitutional limitations which bind the government itself. At an early period of this discussion Senator Lodge exclaimed with oratorical effect, but at no great personal risk, "To the American people and their government I am ready to intrust my life, my liberty, my honor." Would Senator Lodge repeal the Constitution of the United States? Would he even trust his property to the legislature of Massachusetts if Massachusetts were without a constitution? Would the capitalist trust any legislature, national or local, with unrestricted power to take his property, to tax it, to regulate its use? Would the laboring man feel that his interests were safe if a legislature that capital might control had absolute power over his hands, and might prevent all forms of labor union? Would the press feel secure if the censorship in Luzon could be extended to the United States? Free

speech, a free press, the free exercise of religion, the trial by jury, the writ of habeas corpus, just and equal taxation, compensation for property taken for public use, are all constitutional rights. They are secured to every citizen who resides in New Mexico or Arizona, but the inhabitant of Porto Rico has no such rights. If we will ask ourselves what it would mean to us if all our constitutions were annulled, we shall appreciate the condition of the Porto Rican. If we go further, and ask what it would mean to us if, besides losing all constitutional rights, we were governed not by our fellow-citizens,- men whose traditions, whose habits, whose language, whose desires were our own, but by a foreign country,— we can realize his position even better. Nor is the Porto Rican reassured by such words as the following, used by Senator Lodge in his speech as the president of the Republican Convention:

"We make no hypocritical pretence of being interested in the Philippines solely on account of others. While we regard the welfare of these people as a sacred trust, we regard the welfare of the American people first. We see our duty to ourselves as well as to others. We believe in trade expansion."

The citizen of Porto Rico to-day has no American citizenship, no constitutional rights, no representation in the legislature which imposes the most important taxes that he pays, no voice in the selection of his executive or judicial officers, no effective voice in his own legislature. He is governed by a foreign nation under a law which he had no part whatever in framing, and the Republican party offers the island no hope either of independence or of statehood. This is government without the consent of the governed. This is what is meant by "imperialism." In the words of Abraham Lincoln, this is "despotism." To this policy under whatever name our people have always been opposed.

Is it really true that this treatment of a people who received us with open arms, and to whom our representative, General Miles, promised "the immunities and blessings of the liberal institutions of our government," is generous? Does it really "accord with the most liberal thought of our own country"? When he says that it does, has the President forgotten that only last December he said?

"It must be borne in mind that since the cession Porto Rico has been denied the principal markets she had long enjoyed, and our tariffs have continued against her products as when she was

under Spanish sovereignty. . . . She has lost her free intercourse with Spain and Cuba without any compensating benefits in this market. . . . Our plain duty is to abolish all customs tariffs between the United States and Porto Rico, and give her products free access to our markets."

...

Does he not remember the revolt which followed his change of policy? Do we not know that the tariff which was enforced was laid in the interest of America, and not of Porto Rico? As Senator Lodge so frankly admitted, we did "regard the welfare of the American people first." Can the supporters of the President pretend, with these facts fresh in their memory, that the treatment of Porto Rico "accords with the most liberal thought of our country"? Or can we be surprised that Mr. Semple, the agent of the treasury, on his return from a recent trip in Porto Rico, reported as follows?

"I travelled from San Juan to Ponce, through Arecibo and Aquadillo, and covered the entire island. I found the majority of the natives opposed to the United States, whereas I had been led to believe that they welcomed Americans with open arms."

This evidence tends to show that "the best aspirations of the people" need further encouragement; and no one who reads the law under which Porto Rico is governed can doubt its truth, or expect to find any friendship for the United States among its inhabitants, save perhaps that eye friendship, which is simulated from fear of loss or hope of gain.

When we pass to the Philippine Islands, we are met at once by a difficulty which should not exist. In the summer of 1899 the staff correspondents of the leading American newspapers stationed in Manila united in a statement to the public, in which they said: "We believe that, owing to official despatches from Manila made public in Washington, the people of the United States have not received a correct impression of the situation in the Philippines. .... The censorship has compelled us to participate in this misrepresentation by excising or altering uncontroverted statements of facts, on the plea, as General Otis stated, that they would alarm the people at home' or have the people of the United States by the ears.'" This disclosure led to an outburst of public indignation, which was met on October 9, 1899, by a statement from the adjutant-general's office that the censorship was abolished. Somewhat later, on December 2, the censor himself declared that this

statement was not true, and that the censorship had never been abolished. On July 30 of this year appeared a despatch to the Associated Press from Manila, "edited by the censor"; and it is now in full force. . Why General Corbin authorized the false statement has never been explained. It was a supporter of the President's policy who spoke of this censorship as "utterly un-American and insolently tyrannous." The result is that the American people are called upon to decide the most important question of policy ever presented to them in ignorance of the facts. The administration has kept the truth not from the Filipinos, but from us. General Otis's anxiety was not to avoid informing the enemy, but to avoid alarming "the people at home." The President owes us the

whole truth. Why should we not have it?

Will the

Is not this subject of vital interest to every American? truth weaken or injure us? No one can pretend that. It can injure the administration by setting "the people of the United States by the ears." This explains the censorship, explains the false statement that it was abolished, explains its persistent maintenance after we are told that the insurrection is over. The Philippine correspondent of the Associated Press says, "The censor had repeatedly told us, in ruling out plain statements of undisputed facts, that he was instructed, 'to let nothing go that can hurt the administration.'" This confirmation, however, is not needed. No one can doubt the motive which induces the administration to keep the facts from the people. There is no court of law and no jury which does not draw the most unfavorable inferences against him who suppresses evidence; nor can the President complain if such inferences are drawn against him. We must deal with the question in the light of such knowledge as we have. Fortunately, the whole truth cannot be suppressed. There are facts enough by which to test the President's statements.

And, first, it is clear that from the time when the President originally asserted sovereignty over the Philippines until now, a period of nearly two years, the President alone has dealt with the inhabitants. He has undertaken to govern them as he has seen fit, without consulting Congress. So far as they are ruled by the United States at all, they are ruled by him, who thus by his unfettered will controls millions of men. This certainly is unknown in our history heretofore.

When the Spanish War ended, the future of the Philippine

Islands became a pressing question. It was a question of the deepest interest to the people of the United States. To annex these islands or to control their government in any way meant an absolutely new departure from the policy of this country. Whether we admitted them as citizens or held them as subjects, the consequences must be far-reaching and momentous. To impose our sway upon them against their will, to conquer a nation of Asiatics by fire and sword, was the abandonment of every principle for which this country had stood. It was "criminal aggression." Surely, at such a crisis, it would have been natural under a republican government to consult the people. Before they were embarked in a "criminal aggression," their consent might have been asked. No one could pretend that the question had ever been decided by them. It was absolutely new. Yet Congress was not summoned; nor was even the advice of the Senate asked, as Mr. Lincoln and other Presidents have asked it, before committing the country to an important step. The American people were not consulted upon this issue, involving, though it did, their whole future and the future of free government throughout the world.

This question was of vital interest also to the people of the Philippine Islands. These millions of men, of whose language, whose history, whose capacities and possibilities we were absolutely ignorant, were surely entitled to be consulted as to their own future. The President knew that they desired and thought they had secured their independence. He knew that they had established a government which rested apparently on the consent of the people, and which was maintaining order outside of our lines. They regarded us as deliverers, and would have responded readily to kindly influences. The native leaders were certainly able to give us information as to their needs and desires. But the Filipino people were not consulted. Their ambassador was not received at Washington, and the doors of the Paris conference were closed against their envoys. Of the two peoples now unhappily engaged in a war which every one deplores, neither was permitted to express its will before the Treaty of Paris was made.

Not even all the commissioners whom he appointed to make the treaty approved the document which they signed. This is known, though the President has declined to allow his correspond ence with them to be published. It was one man, and that man 7 the President, who insisted upon taking the Philippine Islands