as Academicus, Rusticus, and Theophilus. His library, which they frequently consulted, was a sad medley of dictionaries and the theology of Oxford divines. Methodism and Romanism were alike hateful to the hermit admiral, who, in quoting from holy writ, always rendered "the wiles" as "the methodisms of the devil. Every week he read to his neighbors two lectures "from unexceptionable sources, yet so modified as to contain all that was expedient to explain of his peculiar opinions." Once a year the maids and men of the great house had a ball, the ladies playing for them even all night. Twice in the twelve months occurred housecleaning, when a dress was given to each busy worker. The servants were often reminded to take no more than was necessary on their plates; for economy, though not parsimony, was the rule of the house. Guests came from the mainland and from every vessel of war. Admiral Owen and his house were the fashion for many long years.

The population of the island increased, and the old man married the boys and girls at church or at home, slowly or hastily, as his humor bade him, always claiming the first kiss of the bride. A certain sailor, who had wooed a Campobello maiden, was determined that this privilege should not be granted by her, and therefore saluted his bride before the service was ended. "You are not married yet. Back!" shouted the admiral. Frightened, the sailor groom turned his face and his feet towards the minister-magistrate, who more and more slowly repeated the words of the service, as he approached nearer to the lady, till, with the last word, he snatched the first kiss.

generations of Bay-Shells-Ore cats was considered lucky; for the presence of the double-footed species, with seven claws, was surety for happiness in a new abode.

The admiral's life was embittered by the obstinacy with which some of the people refused to pay him allegiance. They were the descendants of one Wilson, who, in David's time, had squatted at Head Harbor, and had built across his end of the island a brush fence, which was considered to give the sanctity of a written deed to Wilson's claim. David Owen contested the validity of custom, and a lawsuit followed, which was decided in favor of the squatter. This decision was very embarrassing to David, who feared that through its effect he might lose possession of another neck of land. So he hastened home from the court, outstripping his rival, and told a squatter who lived on a second point of the island that, as the verdict in the Head Harbor case had been rendered in the Owen favor, he had better sell out at once, or else the law would make him do so. This reasoning, though illogical, was convincing, and the terrified fisherman is reported to have made lawful deed of his possessions to David for a round of pork, an old gun, and two or three other articles. When Wilson arrived, belated by wind and tide, the fraud, or joke, was discov ered, but as no remedy was found for it the Owens ruled all the island except Head Harbor. There Wilson and his followers established a thriving settlement, whose prosperity was a constant grievance to the admiral when he came to live at Campobello. Neither flattery nor bribery could induce them to become his vassals.

Nowhere on the coast of Maine has there been a more curious mingling of rank, with its investiture of ceremony and of simple folk-life, of loyalty to the Queen and her representatives, and of the American spirit of personal inde

pendence. All the people were familiar with the great family, while the better part of them were bidden to theatrical performances, for which the admiral composed songs. In his diary there is a record that "three large, eleven middle, and fourteen small masts were hoisted on board a vessel, and sent as tribute to England." Such occasional homage must have been justification for a merry-making.

The inhabitants themselves were rather enterprising in business; for rum and lumber were exchangeable quantities with the venturesome Campobello captains, who traded with the Southern ports and the West Indies, and carried Nova Scotia grindstones to the States. Bolder, but quieter in action, were the smugglers, who, deep amid the woods, near the only fresh-water pond of the island, alternately came and vanished. Much of their spare time was spent in digging for an iron chest of Spanish doubloons, buried by ancient buccaneers. The admiral and his family often rode through the woods to watch the men in their hopeless work, and to obtain their share of the treasure-trove if ever it were found. One bright morning every digger had fled, leaving a deep excavation in the ground; but far down on its sides, marked out by the iron rust which had clung to the earth, the outlines of a chest were visible. A cart track and the ruins of four or five huts are all that now remain of the site of this mysterious activity. With the departure of these smugglers disappeared the steady excitement of years, the perpetual topic of conversation; thereafter, the people could only question each other about the strange wreck whose rotting timbers were old a century before. Its last remnants have now been carved into love tokens.

Saddest were the days when the admiral strode up and down his imaginary quarter-deck, his empire a fishing settlement, where boys' wages had once been

three cents a day. Eastport still owned the islands around it: the people brought in their fish, and sold it for groceries and other articles at stores where it was credited to them. The little vessels crossing the bay made it gay for the admiral's eyes, but his spirit sank as he fancied that some boat might be drifting round an inlet, with its owner frozen to the mast amid the supplies he was bringing to his family, who were waiting in vain for the father to return; or as he thought of the burden of this everincreasing debit and credit system, or of the perils of the smugglers. Later, when the duties were taken off by the United States, smuggling disappeared, and Campobello business went down. Could it ever have been said to exist? A few persons possessed enough ready money to build the picturesque weirs which fringe the island with their stakes, driven three or four feet apart, and ribboned together with small round poles. The dried foliage and the dripping seaweed clinging to them give a ghastly beauty to this living mausoleum of the herring.

But all this was a narrow confine for the social and political ambition of the admiral. An exile because of poverty, that compelled him to accept the royal gift, he felt that he must devote himself to controversial discussion and the erect

ing of a new Episcopal church. Before his day the people had been Baptists; now personal loyalty anglicized their religion. The regularly ordained preacher was sent from St. Andrew's but four or five times a year; on all other appointed days the admiral read his beloved service, even till 1842, when a resident missionary came to live in the island. Thirteen years after, in 1855, the church and burial-ground were consecrated by the bishop of the diocese. Most solemn and tender must have been those first rites, when confirmation was administered to three persons and holy communion to forty others, in that little

the issues which concern our national welfare. There are few persons, for example, who do not have some definite opinion whether those opinions are sound or not about the present coinage of silver dollars, or about the relative merits of revenue and protective tariffs. Entirely apart from the grounds of their beliefs, however, men think that the ballot is a means of shaping these beliefs into political enactments. One man holds vigorously to protection, another to revenue reform: then these two men, in our quadrennial agony, cast their votes for a candidate for the presidency who, in his letter of accept ance, or by the platform of his party, or in his speeches, has declared himself doubtfully or frankly in favor of either protection or revenue reform; and these voters believe that they have conscientiously succeeded, so far as their votes go, in doing something to put into office a man who will carry their views into effect. They think that they have aided in settling the economic policy of the country. As a matter of fact, the votes have accomplished no such results. The notion that they have is a political delusion. But outside of the professional politicians and those intimately acquainted with the government at Washington, it may be said that this delusion is entertained by the great mass of the voters, who are either ill-informed, or too busy to give much thought to politics. Among these persons, a man thinks that the election of a given candidate will operate to impress his individual views upon the accepted policy of the country he governs. But this is a mistake, even if the President sincerely represents the doctrines of his party as expressed in its platform.

To show that this is a mistake, a word or two as to the functions of the President may not be amiss. The chief of these functions, in time of peace, are the veto, the power of appointing to office, and the control of our relations with

foreign governments. For the exercise of any powers which come under these heads, the President of course is, and ought to be, held directly responsible; so that whenever a voter goes to the polls, in a presidential election, he can cast his vote in such a way as to make his judgment felt on the policy of the Executive. If, for example, he has made unfit appointments on grounds of personal favoritism, or has led us into dangerous complications abroad without cause, every dissatisfied citizen can hold the President to a strict responsibility, and help to vote him out of office. This is a direct cure for the disease. The control of the Executive over appointments to office, moreover, is exactly the reason why the question of civil service reform was so prominent an issue in the last presidential campaign. It was a matter which affected the manner of making appointments, not by Senators, not by Representatives, but by no other one person than the President himself. This was an issue, then, in which it was possible to establish a direct connection between the vote and the enforcement of the voter's opinions in practice. Or, in the language of politics, here was direct responsibility of the President to the voter for the use of his powers. This responsibility is manifest by the fact that, if his action is not approved, he can be displaced by the voters who gave him office.

If this fact is clearly grasped, we may then see how our delusion affects us. The delusion exists in supposing that a change of Presidents is a change of policies. The Executive is our chief official, of course, and the most imposing figure in the government; but his prominence has taken hold on our imaginations to the extent of producing effects not wholly unnatural or uncommon in matters lying outside of our immediate experience; for the mass of men grasp at the seen, and let the unseen escape them. However imposing our chief magistrate

appears at the head of a great nation, yet, so far as the adoption of definite measures of legislative policy is concerned, he is not the most powerful and influential person in it. There is one other more powerful and influential than the President. To make this evident, consider for a moment where the guidance of legislation lies.

It would seem almost unnecessary to call attention to the fundamental distinction between the executive and legislative branches of our government, were it not that this separation of functions is practically unrecognized by the community at large. Perhaps nothing will show this better than the feeling which pervaded a large wing of the Republican party in the last campaign. They were penetrated with a dread of seeing a Democrat in the presidential chair. In their opinion, this was "giving the country over to the Democrats." Now that the smoke of the battle has blown away, we can consider such an opinion calmly. In the sense implied in the declaration there was little truth in it. If it meant the introduction of Democratic ideas (even supposing them to be different from Republican ideas) into the legislation of our country, it was evidence of a delusion; and it showed an inability to realize that, in this sense, the voters had given the Democratic party control of the legislation some years ago, when the country quietly and without any evidence of panic had given that party a majority in the Lower House of Congress. In other words, it was not understood that there is one particular personage who has a larger influence on the legislation of our country than the President of the United States. That personage is the Speaker of the House of Representatives. It remains for me to show the truth of this statement.

Of course the question naturally arises, Why have you selected this one official as possessing more power over legisla

tion than that of the President himself? Is it not the duty of the Executive to send annual (or other) messages to Congress, proposing important changes in legislation? Yes, that is true; but every one knows that in practice Congress ignores these recommendations. President Arthur and Secretary McCulloch drew the attention not only of Congress, but of the whole country, to the need of legislation, in their mes sages at the beginning of last December (1884); but what single measure of importance was enacted during the whole winter session? The Secretaries of the Treasury have for years urged upon Congress the repeal of the Silver Act of 1878; yet the act is still in force, and a disgrace to the country. Again, an objector may justly ask, Has not the President a veto power upon all legisla tion? Yes, but this is only a negative, not a positive, influence. In 1878, when President Hayes vetoed the Silver Bill, explaining his objections to the measure by forcible arguments in a veto message, the bill was passed contemptuously over his head by both Houses. This veto power, however, is of no little force, aud its importance should be fully admitted. General Graut, for example, saved the nation from an inflated currency by his veto in 1874, a stroke of good fortune for which we may well be thankful to him. Still, this only shows that the opinions of the President upon public measures for which legislation is demanded are on some occasions not useless. Although we realize all the influence exercised by the President, as thus suggested, yet we are met by the troublesome fact that, so far as the enactment of measures is concerned, the Speaker of the House is a more potent factor in bringing about results than the President of the nation.

How this is, I shall proceed to show. The Speaker of the House of Representatives himself appoints all the committees for that body. In the Senate,