The question of expansion raises the question of the power of congress, under the constitution, to legislate for and control its colonies and dependent territories. This power, if derived at all, must be derived from Section 3. Article IV, of the Constitution, which provides that congress shall have power to dispose of, and make all needful rules and regulations respecting, the territory or other property of the United States. At all events the only authority or right that congress has, under the constitution, or otherwise, to deal with the acquired territory is to foster and encourage its development, so that the same may become a state as speedily as possible, and the right of congress to legislate for it must be strictly confined to the accomplishment of that purpose, and only those laws can be enacted that are necessary to preserve the territory and hasten that end.

To undertake to do otherwise would be a dangerous and unprecedented experiment, without sanction or authority. under the constitution, or psage--an indirect violation of the spirit and intent of the constitution, and against precedent and tendencies of the drift of public opinion. This is clearly shown from an examination of the history of our country -as well as from the views of the earlier law writers and commentators.

Take, for example, the language of Chancellor Kent, in the first volume of his Commentaries on American Law. On page 386, he says: "If, therefore, the government of the United States should carry into execution the project of colonizing the great valley of the Columbia or Oregon River to the west of the Rocky mountains it would afford a sub

All manuscript sent in must bear The publishers will not, of course,

ject of grave consideration. What would be the future political and civil destiny of that country? It would be a long time before it would be populous enough to be created into one or more independent states, and in the meantime, upon the doctrine taught by the acts of congress and even by the judicial decisions of the supreme court, the colonists would be in a state of most complete subordination, and as dependent upon the will of congress as the people of this country would have been upon the king and parliament of Great Britain, if they could have sustained their claim to bind us in all cases whatsoever. Such a state of absolute sovereignity on the one hand, and of absolute dependency on the other, is not congenial with the free and independent spirit of our native institutions, and the establishment of distant territorial government ruled according to will and pleasure, would have a very natural tendency, as all pro-consular governments have had, to abuse and oppression."

It is an innovation upon our American ideas and institutions, and would require a complete change. While our constitution is and has been very elastic, and has been made to fit new and strange conditions, unthought of at the time of its adoption, I am satisfied it could never be stretched so as to meet the necessities of the new proposed conditions. Expansion beyond the limits of this continent, and an attempt to acquire and control other territory is a theory tending directly to imperialism, a condition which a republic, formed and maintained as ours is, can never conform to. It is entirely destructive of that patriotism which is the foundation of our government.

It is imposible for a conquered peo

ple, after a long and bloody strife, to readily adopt the views and ideas of the conquerer. Patriotism is a tender plant; it cannot be forced; it cannot be made. It comes from natural causes; it is inherent, and a republic without patriotism in the hearts of the people, from whom all just power is derived, cannot live.

In reading the masterly and interesting discussion of the constitution as contained in the "Federalist," one is impressed with the fact that it was this power of acquiring and governing dependent colonies that filled the minds of the authors of that remarkable document with the greatest alarm. They were too conversant with the history of the great republics of the past not to feel that this power could not be too closely guarded.

The description of the gross abuses and oppressions of which the Roman magistrates who governed with despotic sway the distant provinces of that great nation, as pictured in the glowing rhetoric of Cicero, affords a warning which modern nations would do well to heed.

From the time of the first acquisition. of territory by the Louisiana purchase through the session of Florida, to the Oregon treaty and the Mexican treaty, in no instance, except in Alaska, has congress failed to leave the inhabitants of the acquired territory the right of making its own laws, reserving only a general supervision which in no case has

been unreasonably exercised. Alaska being the only exception, and the shameful disregard with which this district has been treated by congress requires no condemnation at my hand for the reason that it is universally conceded. Imagine the result had this district been populated by Filipinos instead of patriotic, intelligent American citizens, who love their country.

Can we not see that something more must necessarily be done for them if annexed than has been done for us; and it is from the application of these wise principles of self-government and careful recognition of the privileges and immunities so dear to the American citizens that this peaceful and successful result has been obtained. But how can those islands be brought up under the tutelage of this republic? How could they receive the benign influence and enjoy the freedom and appreciate the blessings of such a government as ours? They must, of necessity, be governed as colonies, and such is not the policy of our government, nor ever can be. Such was not the intention of the framers of the constitution; such has not been the spirit of its interpretation. The intention and interpretation of the constitution has always been to guard against every exercise of despotic power-to grant to the people the largest liberty consistent with safety.

Florence May Wright.

The Minister" heads his sermon with this query, in the October number of the Pacific Monthly. I wish I knew who the minister is; whether he is young or old, male or female. Then I could better judge him. I should say, from the sermon, that he is one who knows more of the theory of existence than the practical workings of it. I should say that he sits in his office and writes sermons, but does not go out among God's people, reading them. Young Alinister, let me ask you, what is the saddest thing in all the world? Is it loss of friends, death, disgrace, poverty, disappointment, wrecked hopes, shallowners, love of 'play,' lack of seriousness, -is it any of these things? Unless you are very young, you will say, "it is Lot." You will agree with me that the deepest tragedy of human existence comes when a man has passed through the usual programme of hopes and fears, stands on the threshold of a future, which holds out no allurements and looks back on a past that is barren, and asks that most fatal of all queries, "What is it all for?" And yet you would have him ask it. You would condemn his interest in the "day's pleasures," the "play" and put this awful unanswerable outery of the great human heart on his lips.

A thousand times, I protest. Leave man to enjoy as long as he can enjoy; to fill his days and years with honest toil, brightened by the natural, healthy pleasures that every nature must have for its entire development. Let him be as childlike as nature would have him, and then if his life is not full, if a pause must come when he wearily asks, "What is it all for?" pity him. Do not tell him we are here to "prepare for the next life" any more than that Monday is merely a preparation for Tuesday. Monday is just as important, every whit,

as Tuesday. It is the beginning of te week. True, the successful passing of the week may hinge on the start made on Monday; but Monday is primarily important for its own lessons, not for a preparation day for all that is to come after.

So in life. We begin here, and it is well to begin aright, but this life is just as important as the one to follow. More so to us, for this is in our hands to mould as we will. We know nothing of the future. It is God's. Let us not trespass. Let us live out our lives nobly seeing so many duties and pleasures, on every side, that we have no time to ask, "What is it all for?"

Make much of the little things that fill up the day. See the funny side of the puzzling tangles. Laugh more and question less, and when your time comes to die, die bravely, with no misgivings about the future. Trust the God who created you.

Anne Shannon Monroe,
704 North Second street,
Tacoma Wash.

THE POWER OF A WORD.

Who shall measure the power of a word? Written or spoken it is difficult. to estimate its importance, or to limit its influence for good or for evil, and yet there is nothing, absolutely nothing, which we use with such recklessness and extravagance as we use words.

There is that old couplet about "A man of words and not of deeds-" etc. What child in this land of the free ever escapes having its meaning duly impressed upon his mind? One of the aphorisms we are taught by our pastors and masters in our early youth is to the effect that "actions speak louder than words," and we go through life laboring under the mistaken ida that it makes lit

tle difference what we say as long as we do the right thing. It is an idea, too, which we do not outgrow, but which rather assumes greater importance as we look upon it from the vantage ground of middle age.

"As the twig is bent the tree is inclined," and it is not to be wondered at that in our eagerness to pay deference to the act we form the habit of underestimating the value of the word. We, all of us, daily disregard the wisdom of the wisest of kings who wrote in the days of prophecy:

"He that ruleth his own tongue is greater than he that taketh a city."

A word! a mere sound breathed out upon the air. Heard, perhaps, by one alone, and vanishing on the instant, yet in effect far-reaching as space, and outlasting time itself. Ah, the word! Consider that first verse of the Gospel According to St. John: "In the beginning

was the Word. And the Word was with God." Out of the Spoken Thought came all created things, for "The Word was God." And yet we go on saying that words do not count, that the action is all in all. And we are wrong.

An action may be forgiven, no matter how cruel or how productive of pain, of

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As a Theosophist might say, the drama moves in cycles. In the last fifteen years this has been demonstrated clearly. Shakespeare-or the legitimate -fell almost into the absolute silence of non-production, the lurid melodrama became obsolete, and comic opera reigned supreme. tuneful music prevaded mosphere theatrical-only succeeded by the society play. These in turn were relegated to oblivion by the ever-to-be-wooed public, and a wave of erotic, unhealthy pieces lived their little. day. Then vaudeville became popular and, to some extent, still is the fad of the hour, but the theatres of New York show that the dramatized novel is what draws best at present.

The praised-to-an-early-death "Trilby" was the first to set foot on the ladder of fame. Then followed the romantic "Prisoner of Zenda." These instances are by no means meant to imply that there were not many other plays founded on books, but these were the outposts of the standing army of novelized dramas, or dramatized novels. There was comment of all kinds on "The Christian," but the people flocked to see it, and today Thackeray's "Becky Sharp," produced and played most cleverly by Minnie Madern Fiske, is the most-talked-of production. Zangwill's "Ghetto," the Jewish contribution, "Phroso," still another, and last tho' by no means least, Stuart Robson in "The Gadfly," throng the metropolitan theatres. It is a difficult matetr to imagine Robson as a morbid young priest, with no hint of comedy in his composition,

centred solely on revenge. Yet the press and the public acknowledge the success of this, one of the latest of the book plays.

Anthony Hope's stories, it would seem, lend themselves readily to dramatic adaptation. "Rupert of Hentzau," the sequel of the ever-charming "Prisoner of Zenda," as a novel, though not lacking in dramatic incident, is in some ways not so satisfactory. As a play it is not inferior to its exquisite predecessor. To my mind it is the pure romance, the tender love-making, the fine thread of humor that characterizes Anthony Hope's books that makes them so perfectly enjoyable and gives them their hold upon the public both as novels and as plays. It remains to be seen how long the original authors of dramatic efforts will allow their field to be usurped by the novelist.

Scene-A Dramatic Agent's office. Dramatis Personae-A Leading Lady, A Spanish Clown. Both waiting to see managers.

Leading Lady (wishing to be agreeable)-Ah, Mr. looking for an engagement?

Clown (airily)-I expect to sign con'tracts this morning for a turn at the best vaudeville houses.

L. L.-Indeed! You are fortunate. I really think I'll have to go into the Variety myself, the days of the Legit. seem to be in the sear and yellow-"

Clown (positively)-Oh, but, Missyou have to be really clever to do anything in Vaudeville.

Florence May Wright.