the "Boss," and then ensues long converse, chiefly pantomimic, among the three. The plumber and the carpenter go off with their tools, having finished their three days job. A quail calls close by and soon runs across the drive, his black plume nodding and his little mate following. They wander fearlessly almost into the barn and over the flower beds, and finally slip away under the pines.

The pines themselves are never failing sources of refreshment to the Invalid. Their new green spikes thrust aloft from the older upward-curving branches seem sometimes like fingers pointing skyward, sometimes like votary candles held aloft, sometimes like slender spires. A grosbeak perches on the tip of one, and his brown-yellow breast gleams in the sunshine as he swings in mid air; before he is out of sight a red-capped, red-throated linnet tilts and poises on another wind-shaken bough. The young ivy shoots on the front of the stable are constantly stirred by the flutter of wings. It is impossible not to make much of the birds, they make so much of themselves. Was not this spring world, all these leafy curtains, the slender grass seeds, the sunshine, made for them? Of course it

was.

When the Invalid tires of the north window she goes to the south, which now gives a sweep of the whole valley, and its dark background of hills with their every outline clear cut against the sky. A gabled roof rising from the foliage at their base, a ribbon of white road leading up the valley, a broad field, dotted park-wise with oaks, wherein half a dozen horses are feeding, and close under the windows again the formal cypress hedges, the rose-starred flower beds, and smooth turf of the garden.

It is all beautiful in the afterglow of the perfect day,—so beautiful, that it brings the inevitable melancholy, the unreasonable pain, that always waits

upon the nature-lover when he meets his mistress face to face. Is it scorn of our own weakness, which takes so much and can give so little, or a foreknowledge of the morrow that must blur this picture before it can give us another,— the certainty that no matter how fair and tangible seem the things we grasp they slip through our fingers and are lost forever? Who can tell? and after all, why make ado over this dusk-swept valley? It is only a landscape, there is nothing human in it.

A great yellow owl comes flapping past the window and shatters the Invalid's melancholy self-communing. She hears his "Whoo! Whoo!" later in the night, when the white moonlight streams in and touches her as she lies dumbly waiting for sleep.

The moonlight is not as cheery a companion as the firelight, but it brings as many fancies. Now it peoples the house with ghosts; one can, hear the rustle of their garments in the long corridors, the whisper of their voices, can see them pacing down the scented rose-walks, meeting on the terrace steps, and finally melting into the shadows of the trees.

The moonlight rises higher and higher like the silent inflowing tide of the shining marshes. The ghosts go, but in their places come visions of poor creatures lying on beds of misery in crowded cities, - cold without fire, hungry without bread, comfortless, uncared for, whose windows look on dark alleys or blank walls, or who have heaven help them- no windows at all.

Each new picture brings a sense of contrast, of consciousness of "benefits forgot." The Invalid's pain somehow grows less intolerable, the moonlight and the stars are friendly helpers, "the skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer"; rest and content steal over her, and at last the world of reality sinks. away and leaves her in the world of dreams.

K. M. B.

SEÑOR ROMERO addresses the people of the United States in the leading article of the North American Review for May, upon the question of our annexation of Mexico.

Premising that there is no present agitation of the subject, he introduces it as a question "of transcendent characacter," to be considered now expressly "because the public mind is not excited, and reason can have its full sway."

It is not necessary to suppose that Señor Romero anticipates a speedy agitation of the subject, in fact, the whole tenor of his remarks implies that he does not, yet when a friend says, "Let us have a calm, dispassionate consideration of a certain matter, now, while we are cool," it certainly conveys the impression that we are liable to get angry, and perhaps inconsiderate. While all Americans will agree that there is not the slightest danger of anything of the sort, the high character of Señor Romero, his exalted position and distinguished services, not only to his own country, but to ours, demand the most careful consideration of the arguments and warnings he has seen fit to address

to us.

It is only consistent with Señor Romero's opening statement that the article itself furnishes no further explanation as to why it has been introduced at this time. Possibly, the proposition recently made to acquire Lower California by purchase may have had something to do with it, but it is more probable that the chapter on Territorial Extension, in Bryce's "American Commonwealth," to which we shall allude later, has suggested it. The Mexicans are excessively sensitive upon the subject, and Mr. Bryce's remarks are well calculated to

fact to anybody endowed with the faculty of anticipating events, how dangerous it would be to the future unity and welfare of this country [the United States] further to increase its territorial area, especially when the new territory is already inhabited by a people of a different race, speaking a different lanUnited States has already as much territory as any and having different habits. . . . The guage, other free country ever had, and embraces within itself different elements, with different and antagonistic interests, which will in all probability grow stronger every day. The patriotism, talent, prudence, wisdom, and ingenuity, of its best men will be heavily taxed during the next century to keep together the bonds of union which now happily exist, and prevent their disruption.

It is very plain [he says] to any statesman, and in

tion

But what can we expect if we

increase the already existing difficulties of the situaby adding to them the introduction a whole nationality of twelve millions of people of almost insuperable assimilation . . . a people of a different race, speaking a different language, and possessing very different habits and ideas, two-thirds of whom are pure-blooded Indians, who, although docile, peaceful, and law abiding, are on the whole ignorant, and will, beyond all doubt, present the same social and political problems that are now of fered by the colored race of the South.

We are reminded that the United States are now about equally divided in politics between the North and the South, so much so that a single State has often had a controlling vote in the presidential elections. Since the abolition of slavery

the economic question between labor and capital has taken its place. "The Solid South is arrayed on one side, and the majority of the North on the other. If under such circumstances . . . twelve millions of a heterogeneous, dissatisfied, unwilling people, with a representation in the Congress of the United States of fifty-six Senators and seventy-nine Representatives," be added, little less than anarchy might be expected to ensue.

The annexation of Mexico would revolutionize materially the labor system of the United States, and the objections to Chinese and European pauper im

At

migrants . . would have tenfold force. least three million of able-bodied Mexican laborers, whose wages range now from twelve and a half to fifty cents a day . . would be thrown on the market, clothed with the rights of citizenship, and without any possibility of closing to them the doors of the country as they are now practically closed to the Chinese.

It is then intimated that all the advan

tages of annexation without any of its drawbacks can be obtained by enlarging "the political, social, and commercial relations between the two republics so as to identify them in great commercial and industrial interests, but without diminishing the autonomy or destroying the nationality of either."

Señor Romero says:

I have purposely refrained from dwelling on the actual difficulties of the subjugation of 12,000,000 of brave people, proud of their nationality, and ready to fight to the last extremity to preserve it, and on the difficulties of keeping subdued such a large number

of people, because, although these considerations are

very serious, ..they have only a secondary importance when compared with the paramount gravity of the others. .. I am willing to assume that the conquest of Mexico could be accomplished, but I think it opportune to mention that a great military authority has recently said that a war with Mexico now would be quite a different affair from the

one of 1846 and 1847, and its consequences would also be quite different. Although it is a law of nature that the stronger can subdue the weaker, there are several factors in the struggle between the two nations which may affect the final issue, and often the result may not quite compensate the magnitude of the effort.

In conclusion, I would express my sincere convic.

tion that the United States desire above all things the increasing prosperity and secured stability of Mexico and the other Spanish American powers, and that they are really anxious for closer and more friendly relations. We have not heretofore known as much of each other as we ought to have done, and our mutual knowledge and understanding are certainly the first step to take before we can reach more satisfactory results.

It is impossible to quote Señor Romero more fully within the limits of this article, but it may be seen that he sets out by saying that there is no agitation of the subject on our part; that "none of the political parties, in fact no sensible man, favors any such scheme, that very few would assent to it even if Mexico proposed annexation." That the Monroe doctrine, instead of being a menace from the United States, "contemplates a defensive and not an aggressive policy."

He points out apparently to his own people, although he is addressing us, that since slavery was abolished the old fundamental principles and doctrines (of peace and equity) have regained control of the country, and then follow the warnings and the solemn prediction as to the fatal results to the victor, even if the stronger nation should subdue the weaker.

Americans who understand their own country know how unfounded is this alarm. Señor Romero professes to do so, but while apparently reassuring his own people, betrays apprehension, drifts into warning, and finally into something almost approaching menace, as when he quotes General Grant, that a war with Mexico would now be a very different affair from the one of 1846 and 1847. The article in consequence may be sharply criticized throughout the United States, and perhaps elicit the unfavorable comment which generally follows unfounded alarm.

But before condemning or even judging Señor Romero, let us see what a still higher authority even than the

Mexican Minister thinks upon the subject. Professor Bryce, in his "American Commonwealth," says:

Two railways now pierce Northern Mexico from the United States, the one reaching the Pacific at Guaymas on the Gulf of California, the other crossing the great plateau from the town of El Paso as far as the City of Mexico. The mining regions of Chihuahua and Sonora are already half American, for the capital is theirs, communications are worked by them, their language spreads, their influence becomes permanent. As the mines of Colorado and Arizona become less and less attractive, the stream of immigration will more and more set out of the United States across the border. If American citizens are killed or their property attacked, the United States Government will be invoked, and will find difficulties in dealing with a weak government like the Mexican, which cannot keep order in its own dominions. It is far from improbable that the American settlers, as their numbers grow, will be tempted to establish order for themselves and perhaps at last some sort of govern ment. In fact, the process by which Texas was severed from Mexico and brought into the Union may conceivably be repeated in a more peaceful way. It is all but impossible for a feeble state, full of natural wealth which her people do not use, not to crumble under the impact of a stronger and more enterprising race. All experience points to the detachment of province after province from Mexico, and its absorption into the American Union; nor when the process has once begun need it stop till, in a time to be measured rather by decades than by centuries, the petty republics of Central America have been also swallowed up, and the predominant influence, if not the territorial frontier, of the United States has ad

vanced to the Isthmus of Panama.

If the United States were a despotic monarchy like Russia this would certainly happen; happen not so much from any deliberate purpose of aggression as by the irresistible tendency of facts, a tendency similar to that which led Rome to conquer the East, England to conquer India, Russia to conquer Northwestern Asia. But the Americans are most ur.wil. ling that it should happen, and will do all they can to prevent it. .

One finds in the United States, and of course especially in Arizona, New Mexico and Texas, many people who declare that Mexico will be swallowed, first in the northern provinces, and the whole in time. It is "Manifest Destiny," and the land and mining claim speculators of these border lands would be glad to help destiny. But the general feeling of the nation is strongly against a forward policy, nor has either party any such interest in promoting it as

the Southern slave-dealers had in bringing in Texas forty-five years ago. It cannot therefore be called a question of practical politics. Yet it is a problem

which already deserves consideration, for the future in which it may become practical is not distant. It is a disquieting problem. The clearest judgment and the firmest will of a nation and its statesmen cannot always resist the drift of events and the working of natural causes.

The dangers which Mr. Bryce alluded to are fully understood in Mexico, and as Señor Romero says:

Public opinion is divided in Mexico about the best policy to be pursued toward the United States. The Conservative or Church party, as well as a large portion of the people inspired by the recollections of the disastrous war of 1846 and 1847, which General Grant characterized as unjust, and ignoring or overlooking the political changes which have since occurred in this country, are always afraid of annexation, and advocate the policy of isolation from and complete non-intercourse with the United States; while the Liberal party, having the bond of similarity of political institutions, considers the contiguity of territory as a stubborn fact which cannot be ig nored, and believes that the best way to prevent an nexation is to open the country to the United States, and grant them all reasonable advantages, so as to make annexation useless and even dangerous. In pursuance of that policy the old Mexican land laws have been recently modified, and the most liberal railroad, mineral, and other grants have been freely given to its citizens.

As a consequence of this enlightened policy, American capital, variously estimated at from one to two hundred millions, has been poured into the country. Vast railroad enterprises have been undertaken, some of which have already been completed. The results have, so far at least, generally disappointed the expectations of their promoters. The industrial development of Mexico is as yet very slight; commerce is generally in the hands of European houses, and continues to follow the old channels and ancient methods, at least to a great extent. It is the mining industry that must finally decide the result of American investments, and this is principally in the hands of Americans, it being too uncertain and venturesome to attract much European capital. It was the great Real del Monte mine which long sustained the pioneer railroad from Vera