itary dictator. There was the temptation and the opportunity for the establishment of a military dictatorship that would have robbed the people of their power and turned a democracy into an autocracy; the man was there, and behind him was the force to execute his will. But the devotion of the American people to a democratic form of government resisted all assaults. The military remained subordinate to civil authority; the form and spirit and letter of the Constitution was never violated. The South was in a hopeless political minority, but the North dealt with the South in a broad spirit of generosity and friendship; the South, a conquered people at the mercy of their conquerors, suffered no humiliation.

But while no slight was put on the South, and it was treated no differently from the North, the South was unable to exercise any voice in national affairs. For all practical purposes but a single political party existed, and as always happens when power is unchallenged, the results were disastrous. It was perhaps the most shameless era in American politics; politics corrupted business and business corrupted politics; politics and business were so interwoven for common profit that both were dishonored. Without the fear of an opposition the dominant party could do what it pleased, and it did many disgraceful things. The greatest harm that was done in all these years was to debauch the public conscience and to create the belief that politics

were a thing of barter and sale; that politics were necessarily mercenary, and what every one did no one could find fault with, as it was simply a matching of wits, and the shrewdest scoundrel would win; that dishonesty in business or politics was not a moral crime, but a venial offense, to be reprobated only when it brought detection. The state of political and business morality in the United States was very similar to that which existed in England when offices were openly bought and sold, places were put up to the highest bidder, and the public man of integrity was sufficiently rare for history to note. It is a striking thing, however, that while political and business morality was debauched, private morality remained unaffected. The desire to obtain money led to none of that licentiousness and looseness of conduct that have marked a similar stage in the social evolution of other people. America still remained Puritan, and Americans demanded a strict morality in their social intercourse. In fact, they went to the other extreme. The test of conduct was devotion to business, and amusement was regarded as trivial and frivolous; if not precisely immoral, at least unworthy. It was a drab, monotonous life that the people led, with little enjoyment and scant leisure.

CHAPTER XX

THE PSYCHOLOGICAL INFLUENCE OF THE SPANISH WAR

THE old story of the small stone that eventually threw the river out of its course finds its repeated parallel in history. An event of minor consequence has changed the current of a people's destiny, just as a thing so trifling as to be considered at the moment of no importance has affected the life of an individual. A short war, comparatively easy of victory, was destined profoundly to influence not only American policy but also American psychology. Unintentionally, and for a second time, Spain was to shape the destiny of this nation.

The war in which the United States was to engage in 1898 produced results no less momentous than the two other great wars which marked the successive stages of its development. Its first war, that of the Revolution, brought a nation into being and broke the tie that bound the colonies to Britain. Its second war, that between the States, transformed a partnership into an imperial confederation and settled for all time the subordination of the state to the sovereign power of the Nation. Its third war, that with Spain, broke down the traditions of a century, and, in one respect at least, re

versed the American political system as the fathers conceived it. When the American people, with a light heart, embarked on their military parade to Cuba, they could as little foresee what the results were to be as did the ministers of an ill-starred king when they sought to impose stamp taxes on their colonists. All history shows that war has usually been the short cut to reform or progress; when as the result of war neither reform nor progress has followed, there has been an enlargement of the national vision and the thoughts of a people have been turned into a new channel. The precedents of history were not defied on the American continent in the closing years of the nineteenth century.

The form of the Constitution, the peculiar circumstances under which it was evolved, and the mental cast of the men who made it, show that it was never contemplated that the United States should possess and govern oversea dependencies. The Constitution made no provision for foreign possessions, nor for "subjects" as distinguished from "citizens," which is the differentiation between the Constitution of the United States and that of all other great nations. A European is a “subject,” an American is a citizen, a distinction subtle enough and yet exact enough to mark the difference between European and American political philosophy and to distinguish the relation of the individual to the state in a monarchy and a democracy. When the framers of the Constitution wrought that in

strument, the principle upon which they worked was that birth created American citizenship precisely as in Asiatic countries men are born into their caste; and an Asiatic can no more conceive of liberation from his caste than the American fathers could picture an American not a citizen. The idea of foreign possessions or colonies did not appeal to them; they had been taught the bitter lesson of colonial government and realized that colonies were always the tendon of Achilles to the parent state, always the cradle of worry, always needing defense, and seldom if ever a source of profit. America was to teach the world two doctrines hitherto held to be heretical. One was the meaning of democracy, the other that a nation could become rich and powerful and enforce respect by keeping to its own continent, seeking no territorial aggrandizement, and remaining aloof from European politics. The United States was to hold a detached position, unvexed by the intrigues that sat heavy on the minds of European statesmen, undisturbed by dynastic ambitions or fear of assault. Detachment became an article of political faith and an innate belief of the people. Washington was the first great American to put this faith into words when, in delivering his Farewell Address 1 he warned of the dangers of "inveterate antipathies against particular nations and passionate attachments for others." 2

1

1 September 17, 1796.

992

• Richardson: Messages and Papers of the Presidents, vol. 1, p. 221.