“In the government of this commonwealth, the legislative department shall never exercise the executive and judicial powers, or either of them: the executive shall never exercise the legislative and judicial powers, or either of them: the judicial shall never exercise the legislative and executive powers, or either of them: to the end, it may be a government of laws, and not of men.”

So runs the thirtieth article of the constitution adopted by the people of Massachusetts in their town meetings in the year 1780; and still a part of the fundamental law of this Commonwealth. The fine and sonorous phrase states two important principles: that in every proper government there should be three balanced departments; and that a government of laws must control not only the people but those charged with government—that is, that the rule is stronger than the rulers.

The recent publication, within a few months of each other, of two independent works on the President's cabinet serves to call attention to an important political institution in this country, which has hitherto failed to receive adequate recognition. Mr. Bryce has stated that, in the government of the United States, there is “no such thing as a cabinet in the English sense of the term;” and the larger part of his short chapter discusses what the President's cabinet is not rather than what it is. But if the cabinet in the United States is not the same thing as the British cabinet, it is a significant factor in the operation of the government deserving more consideration than it has received.

Mr. Learned disclaims any attempt at a complete history of the cabinet; and, as indicated in the sub-title, presents a series of studies on the origin and formation of the cabinet—its anatomy rather than its functions. But in tracing the development of the composition of the cabinet, approximately half of the text is devoted to chapters on the origin and formation of the executive departments, whose heads have been added to the cabinet as first organized. A second series of studies on cabinet practices and personnel is expected to follow.

Presidents, governors and mayors certainly cannot be experts in all the matters with which they are called upon to deal, nor, as a rule, are they thoroughly expert in any of them; and in fact this is generally true of officers elected to administer public affairs. We cannot, therefore, avoid the question whether they do, or do not, need expert assistance if the government is to be efficiently conducted. The problem is not new, for the world struggled with it two thousand years ago. The fate of institutions has sometimes turned upon it, and so may the great experiment we are trying today—that of the permanence of democracy on a large scale. Americans pay little heed to the lessons taught by the painful experience of other lands, and Charles Sumner expressed a common sentiment when he remarked sarcastically his thankfulness that they knew no history in Washington. Our people have an horizon so limited, a knowledge of the past so small, a self-confidence so sublime, a conviction that they are altogether better than their fathers so profound, that they hardly realize the difficulty of their task. We assume unconsciously, as a witty writer has put it, that human reason began about thirty years ago; and yet a candid study of history shows that the essential qualities of human nature have not changed radically; that men have little more capacity or force of character than at other favored epochs. Some improvement in standards has, no doubt, taken place, and certainly the bounds of human sympathy have widened vastly; but there has been no such transformation as to justify a confidence that the men of the present day can accomplish easily and without sacrifice what to earlier generations was unattainable.

The dominant fact in foreign affairs in the year 1912 was the existence of the wars against Turkey. Turkey in Europe, and the entire Balkan region, had long been looked upon as the powder barrel of Europe. Anxiety concerning the future of this region had become a constant fear in European diplomacy, and although scares were of frequent occurrence, the nerves of Europe did not seem to get accustomed to them. Every war-cloud arising in that region seemed to threaten a storm that would sweep the entire continent. It was, therefore, natural that when Italy became involved in a war with Turkey, European policy should be full of apprehensions, and should exert itself to the utmost to tide over the dangerous situation. It did secure the limitation of the area of hostilities during the war over Tripoli, but its efforts to prevent the Balkan states from taking advantage of the opportunities afforded were fruitless, and the future seemed very uncertain, indeed. But when war had been begun, the action of the Balkan allies revealed an organization so effective, a management so capable, that a new status was almost immediately created in the Balkan region.