place to state that American citizens have not been murdered in Santo Domingo, neither have American interests been destroyed. No appeal for aid and protection had gone forth from American residents in Santo Domingo to the State Department. Furthermore, there had been no default of interest payment on the national refunded bonded indebtedness, for the very good reason that American officials had been in charge of that part of Dominican affairs for many years prior to the present situation discussed.

There is no proper ground for criticism of our Marine Corps. They are taught to follow instructions and to execute them. But there is severe criticism to be laid against a policy which sends American Marines on any mission not warranted by international law nor in keeping with the American conception of right and wrong.

President Wilson in March, 1913, issued a declaration of principles to the peoples of Latin America. In this he told them that one of the chief objects of his Administration would be to cultivate their friendship and deserve their confidence, and that "co-operation was possible only when supported at every turn by the orderly processes of just government, based upon law, not upon arbitrary or irregular force." Can our treatment of Santo Domingo be squared with the above pledge and promise? Is it in consonance with the doctrine of

T

HE brownish November drizzle met.Miranda as she emerged from the office building. Ordinarily such an evening would have depressed her like a weight, but to-day she strode on with almost the elasticity of youth.

For once she felt singularly at home in New York. The chant of innumerable motor horns seemed to issue from less alien a world of ease. The amber headlights advancing in pairs and the ruby tail-lights receding singly seemed less hopelessly foreign to her as they slid smoothly along the glistening pavement. The lighted cliffs of Fifth Avenue's buildings filled her to-night with less feeling of inconsequence.

In one hand she grasped the broken handle of her umbrella; in the other she held tightly her purse. In it was $50. By painstaking maneuvering she had assembled this sum, the price the art dealer asked for "The Sunset."

For months she had coveted the meager oblong of painted canvas. A beneficent fate had led her into that dingy shop on the side street, for it was entirely unlike her to be hunting for

"self-determination for small nations"? Can we excuse it on the ground of our efficiency and that we are capable of conducting the affairs in those two small Republics better than the natives themselves? Wasn't that, in effect, exactly what the Germans pretended to the Belgians?

The true American sentiment was admirably expressed by Secretary of War Baker when he told the visiting Filipino delegation (also in quest of

A

HALF-TOLD TALE BY NEWTON A. FUESSLE objects of art. Her notion of pictures had been bounded on one side by the Sunday pictorial supplements and on the other by pictures that moved.

That first memorable half-hour in the shop full of pictures laid fingers of color and of romance upon her. It agitated her curiously. It disclosed hollows in her spirit that she had been unaware of. It was like going away on a vacation to hover in front of those placid tonal studies of woodland glades, those warm meadows, curving lanes, and old barns wrapped in the pearly glow of March mornings.

One picture among them had become a symbol to her of them all.. "The Sunset," the weazened old dealer called it. There was an air of melancholy about it that wrung her spirit. She began constructing a mental picture of the artist who must have painted it. She imagined him toiling in some dilapidated building that housed his bare studio. She knew that he was young, that he must be painfully sensitive.

"That's a nice little job you're looking at," said the dealer, eying her absorption.

independence) that "Americans love liberty too greatly to deny it to others."

All right; if that be our National standard, to which none would object, why, then, make an invidious distinction in the case of our weaker and unfortu nate sister republics to the south? Certainly all Americans want to have not only America first but America fairfair to gaze upon, and absolutely fair and on the level in all of its dealings with all people whoever they may be.

"Yes, it is," she answered, hesitantly. "It's an oil painting, isn't it?" she added, with an air of guilt, knowing that she was shopping only with her eyes.

"Every bit of it. Why don't you take it along? It's only fifty dollars. And that's giving it away."

Miranda realized that it might as well have been fifty thousand.

"I can't take it now, but I'd like to come in and look at it again some time." "It may be gone. These things are snapped up."

Again and again Miranda paused at the shop to visit with the picture. It grew upon her, ushered her into new realms. A new sense of beauty began dawning upon her. It made the years behind her seem gray and meaningless. The chromos on the walls of her boarding-house began to offend her. She began visiting galleries and exhib its. Subtle changes made their way into her observations. New York be came pictorial to her, so that at times she had to catch her breath in wonder.

"The Sunset" had grown to be a curious part of her. Its slanting rays

reached like troubling fingers into her emotions and roused her mysteriously from the daze of drudgery in which she had traveled from a girl into an old maid.

Incipient love affairs of the past trickled back into her mind. She had almost forgotten that such things had ever existed. Years ago a man had accosted her on the street, but she had rebuffed him in terror; she wondered how if she ought not to have welcomed the flirtation. She found herself regretting that she had always quenched every romantic impulse.

"I'm going to buy The Sunset,' she said to herself one day.

It was the first romantic impulse that had ever been made welcome in the dry, strict corridors of her spinster soul. Her decision excited her like an intrigue. It made her feel nearer to

the artist. Already she speculated as to how he would spend the money. Some of it would go for tubes of paint, for brushes, for new canvas on which to paint new pictures. She trembled with the knowledge that she was herself drawing nearer to the mystic threshold of art. Every dollar she saved to carry out her project carried her a step closer.

More and more vividly she now pic tured her artist. At times she felt a desire to discover where he had his studio, to catch a glimpse of him. But she was afraid.

She was jealous of the weazened dealer on whose walls the picture had hung all this time. She begrudged every moment that he could feast his eyes upon it. She resented his crafty air, his slovenly person. She hated everything about him. She felt like a Crusader; her sole objective became

THE issues raised by The Outlook

T

in its recent number by the challenge from the Easy Chair under the title "Is the Athlete an Ass?" and "The Reply in Perspiration," present points of vital interest. If the whole truth were to be revealed, it is possible that these issues would transcend in interest and importance the income tax, the next Administration, or even the next world's war, for it seems to me that your writers have unlocked and pushed ajar the door of that place where the Lords of Life and Death play on the checkerboard of the universe the game of human lives and destiny of races.

Ten years ago, when I had just been installed as Director of Physical Education, Health Instruction, and Athletics for the New York City public schools, I sat in my office attacking the task of providing for our three-quarters of a million children, when the door was thrown open and one of the leaders of educational thought burst in upon me in characteristic fashion and exclaimed:

"Crampton, what's all this about exercise? I do not believe in it at all. Look at me! I have never exercised, and, what is more, I am never going to."

I looked him over, and saw a wonderful head, a pallid face, a pair of keen eyes from which flashed a spirit of great power, and a pair of thin shoulders from which hung a narrow black coat; a superb intellectual structure upon a mean physical base. His aggressive, dictatorial spirit I knew precluded fruitful argument, so I remembered old advice: "Ephraim is joined to his idols. Let him alone." So I did. I have no doubt that he followed his intention, for his

vacations grew longer and more frequent, and finally he went on his long

vacation.

He is dead.

This man committed a crime. He had no right to die. He was one of New York's most useful citizens, for he had developed a system of education that had brought to hundreds of thousands of newly arrived Americans, strange to our customs, the best in art, literature, music, and the spirit of our American social and political institutions. He was a pioneer in Americanization to whom the whole of the United States owed a great debt of gratitude, but when he was needed the most he was gone; not killed in action, but destroyed by his stubborn refusal to obey the immutable laws of the Supreme Commander of all of the Soldiers of the Common Good.

Shortly thereafter I was invited to luncheon in the Bowling Green Building by one of the leading young business philanthropists of the city, for a discussion of the problem of moral instruction. He came in a few minutes late, and apologized briefly :

"I have just come from the gymnasium. I take the hour between eleven and twelve, three times a week, for exercise, and I find that it does me a great deal of good."

He was a great young man. He had to be, for he personally directed a business involving many hundreds of millions of dollars. During the last decade he has doubled his fortune and has given much of his time and his money to large health and education movements. At a conservative estimate, he has saved over ten thousand lives. He is alive!

And, what is more, he enjoys good

health and has the superb promise of many years more for the enjoyment of his personal position and power and for the greater service of mankind.

One of these men, in true mediæval fashion, acted as if he were a disembodied spirit, his flesh a mere despised incumbrance. The other recognized that his body might seriously handicap his career and bring it to an untimely end, or, on the other hand, that it could be the unfailing support of a high purpose and add vigor to spirit as "a temple of the Holy Ghost."

Modern civilized man has surrounded himself with so many forms of ease that his survival from day to day no longer depends upon muscular exercise. His ultimate survival does depend upon muscular exercise, for he still possesses an old-fashioned body.

The reason that a man to-day is more than fifty per cent muscle by weight, the reason that the brain is more than fifty per cent concerned directly with muscular movement, is that his parents and grandparents for countless generations have been muscle-working men. They had to run, jump, climb, throw, swim, dig, struggle, and fight to get their food and to defend themselves from their enemies. Those who were able and fit for these forms of muscular work survived, and we are their sons and daughters. Those who could not do these things died and left none of their kind behind them. This is the reason why we have a bodily mechanism attuned to the rhythm of labor, the reason why our bodies cannot be kept well and efficient without muscular work.

Of course there are substitutes for exercise-cocktails, cigars, tonics, glandular extracts, and masseurs of various kinds and degrees; but they are sub

stitutes, and, like paper trousers, they have their limitations.

tems.

The physiology of the need of exercise is in the main very simple. The muscular contraction uses oxygen and carbohydrates, which must be replaced. It produces carbon dioxide and other waste, which must be removed. The lungs, heart, arteries, and veins are called upon at once for increased activity to serve these processes, and muscular exercise becomes at once exercise of the circulatory and respiratory sysThe carbohydrates must be replaced by food and the gastro-intestinal tract with all of its accessories is called. upon for activity, and muscular exercise becomes digestive exercise. The nervous system must direct both muscular and organic activity. In brief, muscular work is a means of heightening the activity of the whole organic complex and relieving it from the perils of stagnation, auto-intoxication, and congestion. Moreover, contrary to public opinion, large muscles are not necessary; they are out of date except for the physical culture advertisement and the seashore-for display purposes only. The long-cherished biceps is not half as important as the neck muscles, the anterior abdominal wall is perhaps still more worthy of development, while the muscles in the walls of the arteries are most important of all.

The lack of muscular exercise, resulting in insufficient organic exercise, is largely responsible for the shortening of the lives of men past middle age. Civilization is good for children and the average life has been increased, yet the expectation of life of the man of forty is decreasing approximately three per cent each decade, or about thirty-six days each year. The old American stock dies quicker and breeds less than the new; our best" people are not our biological best.

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We are afflicted with an altogether new series of ease diseases, the chief of which is the group that results from high blood pressure and hardened arteries. They are mollycoddle, tabbycat, indoor things we have literally wished on ourselves.

The modern man knows he needs exercise, but stands confused and assailed by the clamor of many systems of physical culture which promise health, strength, vigor, and comeliness. Some of these systems do a great deal of good, some of them do harm; but inasmuch as all of them are muscular exercise to some degree they cannot escape conferring some benefit. There are as many different kinds of exercise as there are varieties of food. One can in general prescribe exercise as one can prescribe the right kinds of food for every one to eat, although one man's meat is another man's poison." dividual prescription by a physician who knows men, medicine, and muscles is the best.

An in

Unfortunately, few physicians have developed this line, but we are coming to the time when the most valued prescriptions will be those cleverly applying the latest sciences of living to life itself, to the end that a man may maintain his maximum productivity, his best health, longest years, and happiest days proving the compatibility of health, happiness, and efficiency. This is the new field for the doctor-constructive medicine.

If one must present a typical programme for the business man of fortyfive, it would be as follows:

Morning exercise from seven to eight minutes, emphasizing the training of the neck and trunk muscles, without fatigue and without perspiration.

He should have, in addition, not less than forty-five minutes' straight-away walk every day of his life an hour is better.

Three times a week, for a half-hour or so, he should have a thorough "work out" of vigorous exercise, preferably in recreative form.

Once a week a half-day of golf or its equivalent.

The period of morning exercise is the one item of the programme other than walking that is within the reach of every one who has sufficient interest and will power to get out of bed a few minutes before the usual time. It brings great rewards in a clear, sharp appetite for breakfast, a brisker step, and a higher head throughout the day, and a cleaner, better-toned set of tissues throughout the body. It has a cumulative effect and makes for a body habit of vigor. It makes for endurance and develops a margin of power which can be called upon in an emergency.

One of my friends in the West, a man of sixty, the manager of a great manufacturing concern with branches all over the United States, is a most methodical person, and it shows in his morning exercise. He has his special movements, which he studied out under medical direction, as best suited to his needs.

A few days ago he drove his automobile, a great heavy car, over a by-road that had recently been worked by the local farmers so that it presented the appearance and substance of a morass. Far from help, he was thrown on his own resources. He worked with jack, lever, and shovel unremittingly for eight hours till the car was through and on its way. His clothing was wrecked, but aside from a few blisters there was no mark upon him and he was fresher and more vigorous for his experience. Without a single single stiff muscle or strained ligament the next day he carried through a big piece of business administration. He was trained. With a little steady, persistent work he developed a margin of power that will carry him safely through many of the stresses of business, disease, and accident that

would cripple or kill a lesser man. accord with his invariable practice, he received large returns from small vestments- a larger lease of life and greater zest in it from a few minutes day; interest at ten thousand per cen

One of your writers, while eloquent extolling the benefits of ease and rel ation, inveighs against hectic athlet While his doctrine is dangerous merits both attack and defense. right both as to the benefits of resto the dangers of athletics, but he dr the curtain from only one-half the ture of truth.

The typical neurasthenic bui man attacks his golf with the avidity he would a contract. If h called upon to change an automobil he fights it like a madman. To s man wrong exercise is destructive needs some kinds of motor recrea that will give his adrenals a rest.

Your writer's exceptions to the sive athletics are well taken. But at ics are nature's schooling for su The boy in the game is living a torical present." So does the man goes fishing or hunting or experte the thrill of vicarious combat at a ball game. Athletics need correct regulation, and distribution. They too frequently intensive, confined those who need them least. They shou be extensive and reach the needy crowd. They belong to education and to life and should be regulated by the proper persons.

The apostle of ease has something to learn of the joys of relaxation if he has had too much of it. The man who has been living a coddled life can never experience the singing, restful happi ness that is thoroughly earned by a day filled with accomplishment and vigor ous exercise to the point of weariness.

Your apostle of perspiration has hit one nail squarely on the head. His experience at Plattsburg taught him that a man is at his best when he has been thoroughly physically trained as if to fight the fight of his life. It is not until he becomes physically fit that he can enjoy the various refined products of civ ilization to the full with impunity. Art, music, and literature rest on the basis of action and experience, not upon re pose and contemplation, which merely circumstance their appreciation.

We cannot, however, always live the Plattsburg life. We have not the time. The modern world must be adminis tered, the fruits of progress conserved and advanced. No one can spend all his lifetime in caring for and developing his own machinery.

There is work to do.

The problem resolves itself into the adaptation of an old-fashioned body to a new-fashioned set of conditions, avoiding the danger of biological death, conserving and developing the physical forces to support and grace an advanc ing upward life.

Keystone

HE first historic reference to any general migration of a people is found in the twelfth chapter of enesis, where we are told that Abram, following the command of God, ok his tribe from Haran in Mesoponia into the land of Canaan. Since migration of the Israelites under oraham there has been a constant vement of people from one part of Fe earth to another. Until comparaely recent times no governmental reictions were found necessary to place wanderers, but as society became ore highly organized, and civil and operty rights more clearly defined, tion after nation found it necessary impose such regulations and restricons as would tend to safeguard the terests. of the country to which the migrant sought admission.

Thus it was necessary for Congress impose certain passport requirements persons seeking to enter or leave this untry after our entrance into the World War. All who had looked into is subject foresaw a large influx of amigration into this country following e conclusion of peace. The past year us fulfilled this expectation and amply stified the precaution taken by Conress. If anything, I should say that e had rather underestimated the volme of immigration that would set in Eter the war.

It is interesting to note how immigraon to this country has grown the past

From 1900 to 1910 8,796,308 immigrants, or nearly three times as many as in the previous decade, came to our shores. The above figures are extremely interesting, and furnish much food for thought for the student of political

economy.

During the past year six hundred thousand immigrants have come here from Europe, most of them from the southern part, where we have in the past looked for our cheap and unskilled labor. To-day Ellis Island, the main gate of entry into this country, is crowded far beyond its capacity, and as a result it is not possible for our immigration officials to examine each candidate for admission with that care which the best interests of the country demand. To meet the situation temporarily the Committee on Immigration and Naturalization of the House authorized its chairman, Congressman Albert Johnson, to report out a bill on the first day of the present session that will limit entry into this country to certain near blood relatives in direct line of American citizens and of those who have declared their intention of becoming citizens. The strong features of this

bill, which, by the way, is only intended as a temporary stop-gap measure to give the Committee time to work out carefully a permanent immigration law, is. that the citizen or declarant must first make application for the relative's admission, also that a suitable bond may be required of the petitioner to insure that the newcomer will not become a public charge. If the Commissioner of Immigration is satisfied that such relative is likely to prove a desirable acquisition, he may issue a permit under such regulations as he may prescribe. The good features of these provisos are obvious.

In the attempt to mold our opinions and conclusions into the enactment. of permanent immigration legislation, careful consideration must be given to several important phases of this great question.

The first of these, of course, is the economic one. Shall we permit hundreds. of thousands of unskilled laborers to flood our overcrowded cities when the question of unemployment is already causing us grave concern?

Secondly, shall we give welcome to men whose coming to this country results from a desire on the part of certain foreign governments to rid themselves of desperate members of the Red. hordes now overrunning Europe?

Of course, in making the final decision we must be fair to those who in good faith, and weary of the old order