been the opponent of any and every effort that could ever have been made to dig the canal.' Here is a veritable "Daniel come to judgment." The great Burke professed his inability to draw a valid indictment against the people of a whole nation; but this self-eulogizer finds no difficulty in denouncing the innumerable critics of his Panama action under the one base category of those wishing to deprive the world forever of a waterway from the one to the other sea. No matter how many the dissidents, nor how worthy their reputation and achievements, nor how earnestly explicit their declaration that they yielded to none in their desire for interoceanic navigation, they are charged with hostility to any Panama Canal whatever. How insensate the President's charge. As if those who were confident that Colombia would appreciate decent treatment and would agree to amended but still reasonable terms were thus confident without a vestige of reason. He himself had already declared: "Colombia, after having rejected the treaty in spite of our protests and warning when it was in her power to accept it, has since shown the utmost eagerness to accept the same treaty if only the status quo could be restored." He had, furthermore, and for his own purposes, quoted a Colombian high official as affirming, on November 6, 1903-the very day on which the Panama insurgents were recognized as having established a new nation-in a note to the American minister at Bogota, that on certain conditions "The Colombian Government will declare martial law and, by virtue of vested constitutional authority when public order is disturbed, will approve by decree the ratification of the canal treaty as signed; or, if the Government of the United States prefers, will call extra session of Congress with new and friendly members next May, to approve the treaty.' The American minister at Bogota adds, "There is a great reaction in favor of the treaty." On January 6, 1904, Colombia's minister plenipotentiary at Washington officially declared: "The necessity of the canal is so well recognized in Colombia that it was proposed in the discussion in the Senate to amend the constitution in order to remove [what Colombia regarded as] the constitutional difficulties; and the minister of foreign relations, after the sessions of Congress were closed, directed the chargé d'affaires to advise the Washington Government that the Government of Colombia was ready to enter into renewed negotiations for a canal convention." * He further averred that the fact of the rejection of the Hay-Herran convention"does not mean that we have been opposed, nor that we are opposed, to the realization of the greatest undertaking of the kind which the past and future centuries have seen or will see. * * I have been directed to declare to your Government that Colombia, earnestly wishing that the work of the canal be carried into effect, not only because it suits her interests, but also that of the commerce of the world, is disposed to enter into arrangements that would secure for the United States the execution and ownership of the said work. The charge made against the Government of Colombia that it proposes to cancel the concession of the French company vanishes as soon as it is known that under the latest concession granted by Colombia the said concession would not lapse until the year 1910.” * * * Who can doubt that if the President had curbed his angry impatience and withheld his irritating, insolent threats Colombia's Senate would have acceded to terms rightly advantageous to both countries? Who disbelieves that if, as was our acknowledged perfect right, we had invoked the third point of Article XXXV of the treaty of 1846, to wit "The said treaty shall be binding on both parties until 12 months from the time that one of the parties notifies its intention of proceeding to a reform" Colombia would have been duly impressed with the gravity of her situation, and have earnestly striven to come to terms with her indispensable ally? Accordingly, it is pure hardihood for the President to affirm "Unless I had acted exactly as I did act there would now be no canal." It is simple slander, silly slander, when he says, "Every man who at any stage has opposed or condemned the action actually taken in acquiring the right to dig the canal has really been the opponent of any and every effort that could ever have been made to dig the canal." His critics asked that the right to dig the canal might be acquired by lawful means. Being enthusiastically in favor of an interoceanic waterway, they only demanded that "a decent respect for the opinions of mankind," a substantial regard for international law and treaty obligations should guide the acts of the Washington administration. It certainly is not too much to suppose that if their protests had been heeded we should now have a canal whose title would be wholly free from stain and whose advantages might be enjoyed with complete self-respect. In this chapter of national dishonor there are still other transactions to be considered. The President, according to his published admission, was aware as early as August, 1903, that the secession of the Province of Panama was secretly fomented. He has openly declared that, toward the end of October, the attempt "appeared to be an imminent probability." In his message to Congress of January 4, 1904, he said: "In view of these facts I directed the Navy Department to issue instructions such as would insure our having ships within easy reach of the Isthmus in the event of need arising. * On November 2 the following instructions were sent to the commanders of the Boston, Nashville, and Dixie: 'Maintain free and uninterrupted transit. * * * Prevent landing of any armed force, either Government or insurgent, within 50 miles of Panama.' * * was in That is, in time of profound peace between Colombia and the United States; while the treaty of "peace and amity, of friendship and good understanding," undisturbed force; while it was still written, There shall be a perfect, firm, and inviolable peace and sincere friendship;" while the neutrality and sovereignty of Colombia were solemnly and gratefully guaranteed by the United States as against interference by foreign powers, and therefore against interference by the United States herself; while isthmian transit was absolutely free from interruption; while there was no slightest overt act on the part of the would-be seceders; and while Colombia's acquiescence had not been so much as requested, Colombia was forcefully forbidden to land her own troops within 50 miles of the city of Panama, where, if anywhere, the secession would be attempted. In other words, the success of the revolt, whenever it might occur, was resistlessly decreed. When the President of the United States issued the "50-mile order" of November 2, 1903, he virtually declared war against the very nation of which the United States was the sworn ally and to which the United States was united by obligations admittedly paramount. He bound Colombia hand and foot and delivered her over to her domestic foes. Yet the President, in his floundering attempts at self-defense, declares that"These orders were precisely such as had been issued again and again in preceding years-1900, 1901, and 1902, for instance." But no identity, nor even resemblance, appears when the orders of those preceding years are brought into comparison. Here is the record. On July 25, 1900, our consul at Panama was thus instructed: "You are directed to protest against any act of hostility which may involve or imperil the safe and peaceful transit of persons or property across the Isthmus of Panama. The bombardment of Panama would have this effect, and the United States must insist upon the neutrality of the Isthmus as guaranteed by the treaty.' Here was simply a protest in advance of possible harm. It was merely a warning of Colombia that she would pursue a certain course upon her own responsibility, and that the United States would interfere if free transit was interrupted. On November 20, 1901, this telegram was sent to our Panama consul: "Notify all parties molesting or interfering with free transit across the Isthmus that such interference must cease, and that the United States will prevent the interruption of traffic upon the railroad. Consult with captain of the Iowa, who will be instructed to land marines if necessary for the protection of the railroad in accordance with the treaty rights and obligations of the United States." That order went no further than to demand that interruption of transit should cease, and to provide means, in case of necessity, for enforcing the demand. On September 12, 1902, the commander of the Ranger, then at Panama, was notified: "The United States guarantees perfect neutrality of Isthmus, and that a free transit from sea to sea be not interrupted or embarrassed. * ** Any transportation of troops which might contravene these provisions of treaty should not be sanctioned by you, nor should use of road be permitted which might convert the line of transit into theater of hostility." Here, again, was a merely admonitory order sent to forestall any use of the transit line which would destroy its legitimate function by making it, unnecessarily, the scene of armed conflict. Thus the official record shows that, so far from countenancing the "50-mile order," the asserted precedents clearly condemned it. In direct refutation of the President's declaration is the fact that the previous orders were: First, in accordance with Colombia's understanding and wish; second, that they sought, in authorized ways, to safeguard Isthmian transit from critically impending or actual interruption; third, that they constituted no assault upon either the supreme jurisdiction or he supremely free action of Colombia. The 50-mile order grossly offended in all these respects. It was known to be infinitely abhorrent to Colombia as a sovereign nation; it had prime reference to an apprehended political insurrection against Colombia's territorial integrity and national control, with only consequential reference to a possible transit interruption; it laid essentially violent hands on Colombia's sovereignty; it forcibly prevented Colombia from taking precautionary measures; it was a virtual declaration of war. Colombia was suddenly, peremptorily restrained from the free disposition of her own troops on her own soil. The venerable treaty whose stipulations were to be "religiously observed" was, so far forth, flung aside as vacuous and its covenants trampled in the dust! The President's search for justifying precedents was foredoomed to failure. There was a vast improbability that the history of the United States would furnish any analogy of such despotism. The President should have known beforehand-doubtless he did know that the outrage was wholly novel, conspicuous in its infamous isolation. An unoffending ally fettered and gyved, in forecast of her instinctive movement for self-preservation! The President's act was truly monumental. It was altogether and characteristically his own. Imagine that when the Confederate forces threatened Washington, a nation whose strength outmeasured ours as ours outmeasured Colombia's had forbidden our Government to send troops within 50 miles of the endangered capital. Imagine that the dictating nation was bound to us by treaty pledges of "inviolable peace and sincere friendship." Imagine that our Government had guaranteed that nation, to the effect that its legation in Washington should not be imperiled. Yet that when we thought to safeguard the capital from secession's deadly attack-all legations being then unmolested, and it being by no means sure that, even if there was armed conflict, any legation would be injured our overawing ally forcibly prevented our proposed defensive action, thus handing us over to our assailants; making our disruption a certainty, foregone and absolute. What in that case, would have been our feeling and judgment? What would have been the verdict of the civilized world? Would it have been conceded by us, or by anybody, that the interdict was other than atrocious? On the very face of it, and in its very nature, the peremptory ban would appear as unspeakably abusive. But the President tells us that he then knew, and now knows, no standard of public and governmental ethics "higher, or finer, or nicer." Perhaps he is entitled to the plea. The "50-mile order," however, was destined to be outdone. On the succeeding day, November 3, 1903, the following order was sent to the commander of the Nashville at Colon: "In the interests of peace make every effort to prevent Government troops at Colon from proceeding to Panama. The transit of the Isthmus must be kept open and order maintained." The President's repressive determination was not to be balked. As yet, our Panama consul had forwarded only the news of what he called an "uprising" in that one city. Yet the President issued an order preventing Colombia from moving her own troops, via her own railway, from her own Colon to her own Panama. So far as concerned their freedom to go to the scene, of danger, Colombia's troops were reconcentadoed and manacled. Let it still be borne in mind that there was no interruption of transit by either loyalist or insurgent. Let it be taken into account that the President himself, under the pretense of maintaining peace and order when peace and order perfectly prevailed, violently interrupted free transit, absolutely closing it to the forces of sovereign Colombia, a treaty-bound ally of the United States. In self-exculpation, the President has declared that "The theory that the treaty obliged the Government of the United States to protect Colombia against domestic insurrection or its consequences finds no support in the record, and is in its nature inadmissible.' Well said. But, conversely, the treaty did obligate the Government of the United States not to take sides against Colombia in any conflict she might have with the agents of domestic insurrection. In both its letter and spirit the treaty did bind the President of the United States not to predoom an ally to defeat in the face of attempted dismemberment. The treaty did make it inevitable that such crushing hostility should forever appear as gratuitous perfidy. What the Washington Government should have done in place of the cruel "50-mile order" and the still more cruel repression of the following day, was to respect Colombia's right to a perfectly free moving of her troops, whether overland or by sea, or by her Isthmian railway; at the same time notifying Colombia that any interruption by her of Isthmian transit, if not absolutely necessary to her self-protection, would be prevented by American forces. But the President, in a deliberate, calculating forecast of the Panama insurrection, joined forces with the seceders and conquered Colombia in the interest of secession. The true quality of the President's procedure will be the more clearly perceived through a moment's consideration of what, in such a crisis, Colombia herself might rightfully have done. Colombia had the indisputable right to defend herself against disruption. In case of actual civil war or its perceived imminence, especially civil war involving territorial integrity, any nation may take such measures, within the recognized rules of warfare, as that nation may deem needful. The right of selfpreservation is elemental. It inheres not only in national sovereignty, but also in national existence. Not even treaty stipulations can be set up in contravention of it. Accordingly, Colombia, if threatened by secession, might herself, were it in the imperative interests of self-preservation, close Isthmian transit to all except her own troops. Or she might close it to all except herself and the United States. Or she might impose special conditions to which everybody using the transit must temporarily conform. In other phrase, Colombia, if vitally assailed might take supreme control of all the resources within her domain. Her inherent sovereignty, whether guaranteed or not, would give her a right paramount to the rights of even her allies. În fine, in the emergency of self-preservation the control of Isthmian transit was completely Colombia's. In that case, the President of the United States was authorized to do no more than to see to it that Colombia's interruption, or closure, of transit was neither wantonly imposed nor unreasonably prolonged. Only on proof of such wantonnesss or unreasonableness would there be just cause of offense. To hold otherwise would be to hold that, in our own Civil War, foreign nations might justly complain because our blockade of an insurgent coast rendered nugatory, for the time being, their long-standing right to navigate our ports and rivers. Let, then, the 50-mile order of November 2, 1903, and the still severer interdict of the following day be judged in the light of those first principles. No doubt, upon the bombardment of Panama and the threatened violence to Americans in Colon, United States troops were rightly landed to protect American citizens and their possessions. Such precautions are sanctioned by humane considerations and by universal precedent concerning a government's duty to protect its unoffending people. But that has nothing whatever to do with the President's forbidding Colombia so much as to attempt her self-defense. For the 50-mile order, and for the preventing of Colombia from moving her troops which were already within the 50-mile limit, modern history offers no counterpart and international law no sanction. It was sheer usurpation. Yet the author of that sheer usurpation emphatically avers that so far as his acquaintance with diplomacy and international law extends, or his education in the first principles of national sovereignty has advanced, his course was superlatively right. His words are: "Not only was the course followed as regards Panama right in every detail, but there could have been no variation from that course except for the worse. We not only did what was technically justifiable, but we did what was demanded by every ethical consideration, national and international." He vehemently declares that he did as well as he knew how. To believe it would be a relief. In the final act of the drama, events move with accelerated swiftness. As we have seen, on November 2, 1903, in time of profound peace between Colombia and the United States, while there was no slightest interruption of transit, the President's amazing 50-mile order was issued. On the evening of November 3, at 6 o'clock, the émeute which the President had anticipated took place in the city of Panama, the chief promoters being "the fire department." The less than 200 Government soldiers were "persuaded" to join the movement. The few Government officials were taken prisoners. "Four hundred Colombian soldiers landed at Colon." This was received in Washington at 9.50 p. m. of November 3. One hour and twenty-eight minutes later-viz., at 11.18-word was returned directing the commander of the Nashville to "make every effort to prevent Government troops at Colon from proceeding to Panama." That is, in 88 minutes from receipt of notice of an “uprising”—it was so named in the dispatch in the one city of Panama, the President transcended his 50-mile order of the previous day, and embargoed Colombia's troops that were alresdy within the 50-mile limit. The next day, November 4, at 9.50 in the morning came the consular assurance, "The troops will not be moved. * * * [Colombian] gunboat Bogota threatens to bombard city to-day." At 2 minutes past noon of that same November 4, a telegram was sent directing that the Bogota cease the "wanton shelling of Panama." It was significantly added, "We shall have a naval force at Panama in two days." At 7.10 p. m. of that same November 4, a telegram from the Panama consul announced that a proclamation of independence had been issued by the insurgents, and that three persons had been deputed to draw up a form of government. During the following day, November 5, the interchange of telegrams respecting the details of the situation was frequent and urgent. On November 6, at 12.51, the following Government message was sent to our Panama consul: "The people of Panama have by an apparently unanimous movement dissolved their connection with the Republic of Colombia and resumed their independence. When you are satisfied that a de facto government, republican in form and without substantial opposition from its own people, has been established in the State of Panama, you will enter into relations with it as the responsible Government of the territory.' * A mere consul authorized to acknowledge a new nation, as soon as he thinks tha, a republican form of government has been put in operation. And then, "to make assurance doubly sure," 1 hour and 54 minutes later, at 2.45 p. m., for the consul's guidance "in the execution of the instructions" just cabled to him, the transmission of a copy of a telegram already sent to the United States minister at Bogota: "The people of Panama * having adopted a government of their own, republican in form, with which the Government of the United States of America has entered into relations, the President of the United States * most earnestly commends to the Governments of Colombia and Panama the peaceful and equitable settlement of all questions at issue between them. He holds that he is bound not only by treaty obligations, but by the interests of civilization, to see that the peaceable traffic of the world across the Isthmus of Panama shall not longer be disturbed by a constant succession of unnecessary and wasteful civil wars. * [We have already traced the record. Interruption from any and all causes, in the 40 years of Colombian history, of only 164 days.] Had the President wholly forgotten his Latin: Mendacem memorem esse oportet? Thus at 12.51, midday, November 6, 1903, the President recognized the new nation, the Republic of Panama. From the November 2 of the 50-mile order, 4 days. From the 7.10 p. m. of November 4, when announcement came that a proclamation of independence had been issued by the insurgents, 1 day, 17 hours, and 41 minutes. Beyond peradventure, civilized diplomacy affords no analogy of that recognition of the Republic of Panama. Under a treaty specifically guaranteeing, as against all foreign nations, Colombia's "rights of sovereignty and property" over the identical territory in question, and also that territory's efficacious "neutrality," a treaty whose stipulations were to be "religiously observed," the President of the guaranteeing Nation, itself unavoidably included in the treaty's provisions, forcibly disabled Colombia from taking the slightest precautionary measure against secession, continued and expanded his hostilities, and then, in 1 day, 17 hours, and 41 minutes from the issuance in the one city of Panama of an insurgent proclamation of independence, recognized a new sovereignty. A popular uprising, at a single point, of less than one-tenth of the population of the Province of Panama; no revolutionary committee representing the other five districts of the Province; no formulated statement of grievances; no congress, no army, no navy, no courts of justice, no financial stability, evidently unable to withstand the forces of the parent country; yet an admission to the great sisterhood of nations. Admitted in less time than measures two revolutions of the earth on its axis. It is ample cause for thankfulness that the annals of civilization are sullied by no sustaining precedent. In a note of Mr. Seward, Secretary of State, to Mr. Adams, American minister at the court of St. James, in 1861, he said: * * * "We freely admit that a nation may, and even ought to, recognize a new State which has absolutely and beyond question effected its independence and permanently established its sovereignty; and that a recognition in such case affords no just cause of offense to the Government of the country from which the new State has detached itself. On the other hand, we insist that a nation that recognizes a revolutionary State with a view to aid its effecting its sovereignty and independence commits a great wrong against the nation whose integrity is thus invaded, and makes itself responsible for a just and ample redress. To recognize the independence of a new State, and so favor, possibly determine, its admission into the family of nations, is the highest possible exercise of sovereign power, because it affects in any case the welfare of two nations and often the peace of the world. In the European system this power is now seldom attempted to be exercised without invoking a consultation or congress of nations. That system has not been extended to this continent. But there is even a greater necessity for prudence in such cases in regard to American States than in regard to the nations of Europe. * Seen in the light of this principle, the several nations of the earth constitute one great federal republic." There spoke the informed conviction of a real statesman, and therein appears the immemorial practice of honorable governments. * * Suppose that when we were at the threshold of our last domestic struggle, as soon as those disaffected had declared their scheme, Great Britain had decided that the |