Porto Rico

THE people of the United States have acquired along with Porto Rico a load of serious governmental embarrassments, — problems difficult of solution, and abuses even more difficult of correction, bequeathed us by Spanish misrule.

There is a more or less general impression abroad, dating from the time we captured the island, that the Porto Rican character is a compendium of virtues : that the natives are thrifty and industrious, kindly and hospitable ; that they will fall in immediately with our methods of reasoning; that they will prove as adaptable to democratic institutions and as amenable to government as the best class of European immigrants. Let us dismiss such erroneous impressions ; the sooner, the better. The natives, it is true, have been grossly oppressed, but not in quite the way we have imagined. A rational appreciation of their recent history will modify both our conception of their patriotism and our estimate of their docility. They are less brave and less meek than we have supposed.

Until the year 1887 the country was under a government very different from that since in operation. Porto Rico was then far more prosperous ; there was a large number of foreign residents in the island ; and though corruption was practiced on a magnificent scale, the rights of the individual were respected and freedom of speech was general. That was the golden age, to which every Porto Rican looks back with regret. In 1887 came an attempt at rebellion, — an attempt conceived by a few officials in San Juan who sought private vengeance upon personal enemies, — a scheme rather than a fact. It must be remembered, however, that 1887 was the year in which the slaves were freed, and there were undoubtedly very many discontented individuals whose known inclinations afforded Spain a plausible excuse for the outrages subsequently committed. The island was declared under martial law. A reign of terror at once began, and continued for several months, with numerous arrests, a few executions, and even some instances of cruel and excruciating torture. The Guardia Civile was increased in number, and was authorized to shoot suspected persons at sight, — a prerogative which continued till our occupation. Ever since those days of bloodshed the island has been seething with discontent. Although very little physical violence has been offered by the Spaniards, — their oppression assuming the milder form of official corruption, — the memory of 1887 remains so vividly imprinted on the native mind that reminiscence often takes the place of present fact, when a Porto Rican recounts his wrongs. Indeed, it is astonishing that only a few paltry attempts have been made to achieve independence.

In discussing public affairs with natives, one learns to expect hyperbole and to make allowance for passionate exaggeration. A few years ago, a Porto Rican, Louis Muñoz Rivera by name, established at Ponce a newspaper called La Democracia, in which he advocated complete freedom from Spanish rule. If the existing tyranny had been as severe as some would have us believe, the paper would have been immediately suppressed. No such interruption occurred. La Democracia continued to be read by a numerous class of islanders, and Rivera became the champion and sponsor of all who had grievances. His subsequent career is broadly illustrative. That clever, unprincipled journalist is Porto Rico in epitome. When the liberal ministry, headed by Sagasta, was called to power in Spain, Rivera, with characteristic insight into future events, repaired to the mother country. There he remained for several months, enjoying frequent interviews with the prime minister. The danger of an armed uprising in Porto Rico was really about as imminent as the oft - predicted war between capital and labor, — surely not more so; but by plausible representations, of no very agreeable character, Rivera succeeded in alarming Sagasta. There was, said the revolutionary journalist, an imperative necessity for granting some sort of autonomy to Porto Rico. It is difficult to follow the mental movements of deceiver and deceived. Possibly a desire to give an object lesson to refractory Cuba had more weight with the premier than any apprehension of a Porto Rican rebellion. However that may be, Rivera returned from Spain decorated with the grand cross of the Holy Order of Catholics, pledged to win the consent of his countrymen to as farcical a system of autonomy as mind can conceive, and assured of the full support of the Spanish army.

Then commenced a vigorous campaign of political propagandism. Traveling about the island with a military escort, his decorations glittering on his breast, Rivera harangued the populace. He recounted his difficulties in obtaining the inestimable boon of autonomy for his beloved Porto Ricans at the hands of the Sagasta ministry ; he described his untiring entreaties ; he recounted his trials; he spoke with florid eloquence of his final success. Then he modestly alluded to his journey, explaining that he had gone to Spain at his own expense, and that he had lived there for many months, devoting himself to the sacred cause of his countrymen.

In the meantime, while Rivera was making his theatrical tours, the more thoughtful people began to wonder why this obscure newspaper editor was so suddenly advanced to a post of conspicuous honor. Was Sagasta frightened at the progress of the Cuban rebellion ? Was the premier fearful of a similar outburst in Porto Rico ? If so, would he not be disposed to grant genuine independence, if the people rejected this ridiculous substitute for it? An autonomy in which the people were allowed to elect a congreso, but the congreso itself was not allowed to do anything, — let us have none of it, they said. All who reasoned thus declared for absolute independence, and were called Puros; the followers of Rivera took the name of Autonomistas. The Puros numbered within their ranks most of the stable, far - seeing men of the island. Aside from international considerations, a distrust of Rivera played an important part in determining their actions. As the day of election drew near, Rivera extended a proposal to the Puros. “ Accept this proffered autonomy,” said he, “ and we will unite to elect a Puro congress, thereby demonstrating our desire for thoroughgoing reform.” The ruse succeeded. Puro candidates were everywhere nominated, often with no apparent opposition. Then was accomplished a daring stroke of perfidy. The day before the election the telegraph lines were kept busy with messages from Rivera. Autonomista candidates were thrust forward against the seemingly unopposed Puro nominees, and rewards were liberally promised to the prominent men of each district. The wires were then held so that not a message passed for eighteen hours. The next day the treachery was revealed; but the soldiers were out in force, and held the polls. A few disturbances occurred, but the Puros carried only a third of their nominees, and Rivera became president of an Autonomista congress.

This scandalous intrigue took place but fifteen months ago. It is, therefore, the newest as well as the most conspicuous example of the political condition of Porto Rico, the sacredness of which our American authorities at San Juan are passionately entreated to revere.

Rivera, as president of the congress, wrote to the papers, at the opening of the war, that he would sooner become a Chinaman or a Hottentot than an American citizen. Rivera, having experienced the termination of his lucrative office, is now seeking another, and cultivating with particular assiduity every American upon whom he can make an impression ; giving interviews to the American papers, calling upon the United States government to respect the civic freedom of Porto Rico, and in every way endeavoring to pose before the natives as their loyal benefactor and savior.

And yet Rivera is no reprobate, as Porto Ricans go. The difference between him and his kind is not so much one of nature as of ability. He is typical of a race whose instability and inconsistency are temperamental. The Porto Ricans are essentially volatile, a people of fluent adjectives, a people of extravagant superlatives, a people of indefatigable loquacity. They delight to rhapsodize upon their own prowess or virtues. As this sort of self-eulogy goes forward, the listeners attend in much the same way as American Indians would under similar circumstances, each expecting a reciprocal courtesy for his own trumpet when it comes his turn to blow. Lacking solidity or persistence of character, the Porto Ricans will work with great industry until the mood suggests a spree, and then nothing can restrain them. The lower classes are destitute of moral perception, and disgusting in their habits of life.

In estimating such a people, one cannot escape the argument a fortiori. There has never been a case in history where an inferior race has conquered, and held in subjection for any prolonged period, a race superior in physical or in mental endowment. Porto Rico has always been a vassal state. The Spaniard in Porto Rico was undoubtedly immoral, corrupt beyond the wildest dreams of American scandalmongers, filthy in body and mind, and execrably cruel, — in all which respects the native was fully his equal. But the Spaniard was somewhat of a man “ for a’ that.” He possessed a fair amount of physical courage, a strongly pronounced religious tendency, and had occasional glimmerings of a sense of honor. The native Porto Rican, however, can make good his claim to none of these commendable traits. For arrant, despicable cowardice the world cannot produce his match. This I say not merely in regard to his lack of fighting capacity ; his deficiency is much more pronounced. While I was in the island I visited every sugar plantation between Ponce and Dorado, via Guayama, Yabucoa, Humacao, Fajardo, and San Juan, conversing with the owners, and frequently riding over the estates in their company. During all the time I did not find one native Porto Rican who was not afraid of his horse. As soon as the animal became the least mettlesome, the gallant caballero frantically clutched the high pommel of his saddle and called for help. After an American has witnessed a Caballero’s wild flight from a placid cow, it is impossible for him to desire such a contemptible poltroon as a fellow citizen.

Yet the native is not without redeeming qualities. He is invariably courteous, uniformly respectful. The peon regards the señores very much as the feudal serf must have regarded the neighboring gentry. Consequently, he is in a very “ governable ” state of mind. He is free with his money, long-suffering under oppression, but intensely excitable. He will remember a favor, though his gratitude will disappear upon the receipt of some real or fancied slight. He is proud, but only for applause. His self-esteem depends solely on his neighbor’s estimate of him. Horsewhip him privately, and he will forgive you. Snub him publicly, and he is your lifelong enemy.

It is without the slightest desire to criticise our army and navy that I speak of their treatment of the Porto Ricans as one continuous mistake. Our officials have shown from the first an intense desire to demonstrate to the natives the reality of that golden era which awaits them under the rule of the United States. However laudable the motive, it was not the part of wisdom. The error lay in ascribing too much importance to the native Porto Rican.

General Miles, when embarking upon his initial campaign, took with him a motley collection of nondescripts called the Porto Rican Junta. According to their own account, they were political exiles and refugees. Their more urgent motives for quitting the island, however, traversed a category of offenses in which politics played but an insignificant part, the graver charges being manslaughter, thieving, and embezzlement. General Miles of course soon saw through their pretense of being prominent citizens, and they found it advisable to scatter, but not before one of them had donned a uniform, and employed his newly acquired authority for the furtherance of private ends.

The interpreters of the commission that we sent were not of the most savory reputation, but they were by odds better than the army’s earlier associates. One of those worthies belonged to a prominent Porto Rican family, had studied in the United States, and while here had been naturalized. Returning to Porto Rico, he took an active part in the politics of the island, joining the Puros and opposing Rivera with fervid vehemence. Whenever he was threatened by his enemies, he would throw himself back upon his American citizenship. Some time before the outbreak of war, he was informed by our vice-consul in San Juan that, if arrested, he could expect no aid from the consulate, as he had forfeited his rights to American protection by mixing in the political affairs of a foreign country. The man left San Juan almost immediately, and taking residence in New York city remained there until the close of the war. While in New York, he represented himself as an American citizen who had been obliged to leave Porto Rico, barely escaping with his life, because he had refused to join the volunteers and bear arms against the country of his adoption. Favored by the state of American feeling at the time, he received no little sympathy, and personal friends easily helped him to obtain the position of interpreter to the commission.

Now, this particular man is by no means a bad fellow, as Porto Ricans go ; personally, he is rather pleasing. But his history affords a clear demonstration of the errors into which the Americans are apt to fall, — errors which are practically unavoidable while our officials are under the necessity of acting upon partial information. I believe that the Spaniards have in many cases been surprised to find American citizens among imprisoned malcontents. I know of numerous instances in Porto Rico of ardent Spanish sympathizers who have astonished their friends by exhibiting naturalization certificates after the occupation of their district by the United States troops. I call to mind the owner of a foundry and machine shop, an officer of volunteers, engaged upon Spanish government contracts. When the Spanish work was finished, and the American about to begin, he promptly advanced his claim as an American citizen to preferment over alien competitors.

Such instances are beyond doubt representative. Few who are to-day enjoying American favor belong to the most worthy class. This is a matter of extreme seriousness. Above and beyond the comparatively petty consideration as to whether we are rewarding according to merit is the effect of this spectacle upon the people at large. When Porto Ricans see us so easily “ buncoed ” by men whom they have ostracized, their opinion of us must suffer. This already begins to appear. As I was sitting one day in the rotunda of the Hotel Ingleterra, in San Juan, in company with Admiral Schley, an interpreter presented a fellow Porto Rican, whom the admiral received with his usual approachableness and courtesy. I afterward heard that the price of that introduction was five dollars!

The ridiculous affair at Fajardo, though in itself a matter of no great importance, affords a complete and picturesque illustration of the manner in which we Americans have been duped by the wily natives. At the beginning of the war, the more influential citizens of this little town were the most ardent Spaniards imaginable. I have seen letters from one of them, speaking of the defense Fajardo could be expected to make in the event of an American invasion. The unanimity with which they assured the Spanish officials of their determination to die rather than yield was inspiring. But when the monitors Amphitrite and Puritan anchored in the harbor, and sent a detachment of marines ashore to tend the Cape San Juan light, about five miles from the town, the aspect of affairs changed at once. These ardent Spaniards, foreseeing the American occupancy of the island, and having also an alluring vision of political preferment, waited upon the commander of the warships. Fajardo, they said, was ultra-American ; its inhabitants burned to welcome their saviors, their friends, their brothers in the love of liberty. They, being the most prominent citizens, could rally round them nearly a thousand men, and would undertake, if furnished arms, to hold the town until the arrival of the United States troops. Nevertheless, as there were some twentyfive representatives of the Guardia Civile in Fajardo, the Americans would confer a favor by landing and driving them away.

Just what motives induced the commander of the expedition to assent to their proposition cannot now be determined. If any reliance was to be placed in their representations, he might have considered it a shrewd move to annoy the enemy. As things fell out, he lost nothing but his colors, — the only American flag captured during the war. At all events, some marines were landed and marched up to the town, the twentyfive members of the Guardia Civile passing out on the other side. After considerable palaver, the American flag was raised and arms were given to the natives. Meanwhile, Governor-General Macias had been informed of the affair, and had dispatched about four hundred troops from Rio Grande, thirty miles away. When news of this came, Fajardo was thrown into pitiable confusion. The peons scattered to the hills. Their valiant leaders scampered to the lighthouse, — all but three, and those the most valued, who were taken aboard a warship in a condition of profound mental depression. As to their wives and families, the lighthouse was good enough for them ; as to the American flag, it was left idly floating over the abandoned town for the incoming Spaniards to pull down and trail in the dust.

There was a fight that night. The entire Spanish force attacked the lighthouse, lost about eleven men in killed and wounded, and then retired. During the defense of the building, fourteen marines and one officer constituted the number actively engaged. All were Americans. The Porto Ricans lay huddled in the safest corner, having lost all desire to die for their beloved Americanos. The next day, the whole litter of patriots was bundled aboard ship and taken to Ponce, where they recovered fortitude, and commenced to estimate the fabulous sums which the Spanish government would give for their heads.

Having had an extended acquaintance with these people in Ponce, I went to Humacao shortly after the cessation of Hostilities. The military governor of the district, Ubervilliers by name, was highly amused at my description of the refugee “ insurgents ” from Fajardo. He told me they were entirely at liberty to return unmolested, as they were too insignificant to invite Spanish vengeance. However, they did not return until after the 12th of September. During the interim, they contented themselves with writing their friends accounts of their intimacy with the American officials, and their assured prominence in the future government of the island.

This, you say, is all very trivial and unimportant. So it would be but for what it represents. The officers of our army and navy have shown an unfortunate even if natural disposition to put faith in these flamboyant enthusiasts, whose treachery, linked with vain expectations and their consequent disappointment, is likely to aggravate the difficulties of mild though firm control.

Beside the perplexities arising from native depravity and American indiscretion, we shall find ourselves confronted by an ugly assortment of problems relative to the civil administration of the island. It will be no easy task to undo the mischief wrought by centuries of Spanish misrule. A single instance of the intolerable abuses awaiting remedy at our hands is the present system of levying taxes. Once, in conversation with a wealthy native planter, I happened to speak of the methods in use here at home. He listened with unmistakable interest, and when I had finished he pressed me for further information. “Ah, yes, señor,” said he, “I understand all you have said, but you leave out the main point. Tell me, whom do you have to bribe ? ”

Heretofore, in every village, one or more representatives of the Spanish conservative party have dominated local affairs. To them the government applied when information was wanted, and appointments were always made with respect to their wishes. In return, these petty autocrats were expected to keep a thumb on the pulse of public opinion, and to stand ready at any time to do yeoman service for the cause of Spain.

The land taxes fell into two classes, the Madrid and the municipal. Under Spanish rule, every village was a municipality, and its taxes sustained the local government, paid a percentage to the district government, and supported numerous public officials and their friends. The Madrid taxes maintained the general government, supported the army, navy, and church of the island, and remitted a surplus to Spain. The chief power of the local autocrat came into play in the system of levying these various taxes. To show how the system operated, I will take for example a sugar estate. The value of the crop was sworn to by the owner. If he did not stand in the good graces of the officials, he was obliged to submit to an excessive valuation ; on the other hand, if he was close to the local autocracy, he could represent his crop at half its worth. Official favoritism meant all the difference between wealth and bankruptcy.

Now, to the Porto Ricans their future taxation is the most important issue. A fair assessment on land, whether developed or not, is beyond their comprehension. They naturally wish to cultivate an intimacy with their new governors, and therein lies the opportunity of those who have obtained an acquaintance among the Americans.

Another problem before us is the policing of the island. The constabulary system of Spain was remarkably complete. Every municipality had its detachment of the Guardia Civile, whose business it was to be personally acquainted with the inhabitants. A member of the guard was judge, jury, and executioner combined, — efficient beyond comparison, — and yet his license to shoot any offender on refusal of surrender was open to tremendous abuse. Where the officer’s deposition was sufficient evidence to justify such a shooting, the ordinary citizen was naturally reluctant to cross him. It speaks well for this picked corps of Spanish veterans that instances of summary shooting were extremely rare, only one having occurred in recent years. How well it speaks for the natives can be readily appreciated. Terrorized to the point of absolute obedience, the Porto Ricans have acquired an undeserved reputation as law-abiding citizens. Moreover, the system engendered a ferocious hatred, which is ready to spring into flame whenever the restraining fear is removed, as is shown by the recent outrages — murder and incendiarism — committed in the name of revenge.

Now that the two splendid organizations, the Guardia Civile and the Guardia del Ordon Publico, have been entirely removed, the problem is pressing. To be sure, it is contrary to our whole conception of military practice to send the private soldier to patrol the countryside, like a policeman “ traveling ” his beat. Yet without some visible reminders of governmental authority the native will consider himself unrestrained. If our system of county sheriffs is to be introduced, we must provide each sheriff with a posse of American deputies. The shrievalty in a native’s hands is much more likely to be used as a means of revenge than as an instrument of justice. Perhaps the best possible solution would be the organization of a system of mounted police similar to that in South Africa or in the Canadian Northwest. Without some force other than that now existing, lynch law, with all its attendant evils, will probably be introduced by American adventurers.

Next to that for lighter taxation, the Porto Rican’s chief prayer is for better roads. There are at present three classes of roads in the island : carenteras del Rey, or military highways, which are excellent; ordinary carenteras, which are but poor apologies for country roads; and bridle paths. Almost all the money devoted to road-building has been expended upon the first class of thoroughfares. The ordinary country roads are sufficient in extent, but they are at times impassable. Fortunately, the island is not without resources to meet the expense of development in this respect. Spain has left Porto Rico with a clean sheet as regards indebtedness. If the seven military departments — Bayamon, Arecibo, Mayaguez, Ponce, Guayama, Humacao, and the island of Vieques — were organized similarly to our counties, they could float bonds and improve their own roads. Moreover, the Porto Ricans are justified in their demand for adequate highways. The present conditions are intolerable. It has been costing the sugar planters around Juncos more than six pesos to haul a hogshead of sugar (whose gross value is but forty-five pesos) downhill, some twelve or thirteen miles to the seaboard.

Another problem of urgent importance, and one which cannot be solved without incidental injustice to somebody, is that of exchange. In 1894 Spain coined provincial money to take the place of the Mexican dollars until then in circulation. The new peso, or dollar, weighed but four hundred grains, as against four hundred and twenty grains in the Mexican dollar, and four hundred and twelve grains in the American. The government proceeded to fix the value of the Mexican coin at but ninety-five per cent of that of the new peso, and set a date on which the legality of the former as tender was to cease. The total amount of this issue was six million pesos, of which sum the Spanish government made ten per cent by the transaction. This debased currency will now have to be demonetized, and the rate at which demonetization shall be effected is a source of no little speculation to the natives.

Whoever undertakes this task must bear in mind a few considerations which are of prime importance to the island as a whole. Most of the ready money, probably three fourths of it, is to-day in the hands of the Spaniards. Spain long ago announced her intention of making the Porto Rican provincial coinage legal tender in the mother country at ninetyfive per cent, which meant that the government owned a large amount of it, and saw no other way of getting rid of it. Now, all the governmental money, and large sums belonging to the Spanish officials and wealthy residents whose past record has made them afraid to stay in the country, will, of course, leave the island. Porto Rico will consequently be subjected to a money famine for some time. If, however, the rate of exchange is fixed at such a figure as to give an inflated value to the provincial money, all the outgoings will consist of American gold and will be of much larger volume, with the result that, though the provincial money will be more plentiful, the Americans will lose by having to exchange it at an inflated value two, three, perhaps even five times over. Most of the natives argue that if the United States government really has the good of the island at heart, it should accept their native currency peso for dollar, recouping itself for the initial outlay by a process of gradual taxation. It is a little difficult, however, to understand why the United States should make up to the Porto Ricans what they have lost by Spanish dishonesty and extortion.

Still further difficulties await us in the religious affairs of Porto Rico. The natives are nominally Roman Catholics, the Protestant church at Ponce being the only one of its kind on the island. But to the Porto Ricans the priest has been better known as a temporal oppressor than as a spiritual guide. Paid by the state, he performed his duties pretty much as he pleased. All Porto Rican mothers are eager enough to have their children baptized, but few of the natives seek the marriage ceremony, the lower classes preferring the economy of primitive savages. Nor is there much reason to hope for improvement under the new régime. With the outgoing of Spanish government, there is absolutely no means of support for the Catholic Church ; and I do not think that any Protestant denomination would succeed much better financially just at present. The peons regard the Church as part and parcel of the Spanish system, and they include it in their violent hatred of all things Castilian. They possess at best but little religious sentiment or principle, making up for it in superstition. That the clergy now in the island, many of whom are vicious, dissolute men, could or would assume the task of bringing these degenerates into a state of moral order is out of the question. If our Irish Catholic clergy could be substituted for them, the condition would be greatly improved. Yet even they could expect no adequate support from the natives.

Now, for all these national embarrassments which we have accepted, what reward do we reap ? A strategic position in a possible series of future naval operations. There lies a palpable gain. But the foremost consideration is commercial. What, then, are the opportunities for American capital, American brains, and American energy, in this new possession of ours ?

It is the easiest thing in the world to assert in a by and large way that the island is open for development. It is not so easy to determine the exact lines on which such development might be profitably directed. The bald statement that Porto Rico is destitute of railways, docks, trolley lines, good roads, — in a word, destitute of the machinery of commerce and convenience, — is enough to arouse the lively interest of American capitalists. Yet the operators of such machinery must draw their revenues from the small spendings of large numbers ; and though Porto Rico is thickly populated, only the rich (or between one and two per cent of its people) can be relied upon to spend money for railway tickets, or for illuminating gas, or for electric lights, or for any other such luxury.

When the American workman, earning a dollar and a half a day, pays five cents twice daily for transportation, he is expending six and two thirds per cent of his wages. A Porto Rican of the same relative wealth is earning but fifty cents (Spanish), and would have to spend forty per cent of his earnings if his nickels were reduced to a gold basis. Undoubtedly, the peons will become richer, but until they do they will rarely ride. Arrangements have been completed to build a trolley road from Ponce to its port, or playa. The financial prospects of the undertaking are instructive. In war time, when the number of stagecoaches had been doubled because of the increased traffic due to the presence of the American army, some twenty vehicles filled all the requirements. These coaches carried passengers for one real, or six and a quarter cents (American), and made about three trips daily. Consequently, if the new road takes in fifty dollars in gold a day, it will be doing all that can be expected.

Ponce has also a gas plant. During the war it was closed for lack of fuel, and it has not yet resumed operations. It has a capacity of twenty thousand cubic feet, and when once the holder was full the works shut down for a couple of days. That this should have been possible in a city of forty thousand inhabitants is a sufficient commentary upon the advisability of inaugurating municipal enterprises in Porto Rico.

It would be impossible for a steam railroad to penetrate to the centre of the island without enormous expense for construction. If the island were encircled, the road would be some three hundred miles long. Suppose that this road handled every ton of goods exported, and hauled its freights an average distance of one hundred miles ; also suppose that it handled an equal amount of importation tonnage : the traffic would then reach a total of twenty-five million tonmiles. If the almost prohibitive rate of three cents a ton-mile were received, the aggregate yearly freight revenue would be seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, or ten per cent of the cost of the railroad, — and this upon the assumption that the road could be constructed for twenty-five thousand dollars a mile.

The situation becomes clearer when we compare these conditions with the figures of productive railroad enterprise in America. In 1867, in the United States, 1.925 cents were received for freight per ton-mile; in 1877 the rate was 1.286 cents ; in 1887 it became .984 of a cent; and in 1896 the fraction was further reduced to .806. Moreover, the average cost of construction has been above sixty thousand dollars per mile. Yet even with our gratuitous assumptions in favor of the Porto Rican undertaking, we find that its income would be extremely low. No American road receives less than fifteen per cent, if it pays dividends. We must note also that the receipts from passenger traffic in this country are equal to about half those received from freight charges, — a condition which is an impossibility in Porto Rico. A freight aggregate of two hundred and fifty thousand tons will seem a small amount to supply a million people, but the actual freight taken from place to place in Porto Rico last year was probably less than fifty thousand tons. In all such calculations as this, it must be remembered that the products of the tropics are relatively large in value and small in weight.

The supreme opportunity for Americans in Porto Rico lies, not in the development of modern facilities, but in the tillage of the soil. The agricultural methods at present employed are extremely crude and wasteful. The full productive capacity of the island has never been reached. Beside the two main staples, there are inviting possibilities in cocoa, pineapples (fresh and canned), dried cocoanut meat, bayberry leaves, and a thousand other products. Still, the chief importance must always attach to coffee and sugar. Coffee may be grown on any of the hill lands. Labor is cheap, particularly agricultural labor. The field workers have been receiving a daily stipend of fifteen cents in gold, and in addition a half pound of bacalao, or salt codfish, and two plantains. The consequent cost of production has been a little over three dollars and a half per hundredweight, the coffee selling for from twelve to fourteen dollars in gold. Yet, when business is conducted on a gold basis, the laborers’ wages will be approximately doubled; so the percentage of profit will be materially diminished. On the other hand, a tree now produces about one pound annually, while English growers in other tropical countries have increased the yield to eight pounds, by proper tilth and by recourse to such wellknown agricultural devices as “ topping,” of which the Porto Ricans are still ignorant.

The raising of sugar costs the native planter about two and a half cents a pound. He gets only a little more than a ton to the acre, while its cultivation takes forty dollars. The best extraction on the island secures but seventy-two per cent of the cane in juice, and about eight and a half per cent in sugar. The Porto Rican ploughs his land with four yoke of oxen and five men, the labor alone costing him five and a half dollars an acre, and he plants his cane with spades, at an expense of seven dollars. Compare this with what can be done ! An increase to twelve per cent extraction and a yield of four tons of sugar by the mere introduction of modern machinery ; proper selection of canes for seed, thus increasing the sucrose contents of the juice from eight degrees Baumé to eleven ; ploughing with a tandem plough, cutting three inches deeper than the kind now employed, at only a dollar and seventyfive cents for labor per acre ; increasing the yield of cane thirty or forty per cent by a little judicious manuring, — here are possibilities that mean wealth to American investors, and unexampled prosperity to the island of Porto Rico.

The news of General Henry’s recent measures brings with it great hopes for the future. He has but lately dissolved the island Cabinet with Rivera at its head, and in future will do the work with Americans. He has divided the lands, according to their value, into three classes, and fixed an equable rate of taxation for each. He is organizing an American police force for San Juan, and promises to extend its functions over the whole island when its organization is perfected. Such measures are not only eminently just in themselves, but indicate a thorough knowledge of the conditions with which he has to deal.

William V. Pettit.