HILE Uncle Sam was still a very young member of the family of nations he found it necessary to set up some kind of an office to deal with foreign countries. The Continental Congress had a "Committee for Foreign Affairs," but this was found inadequate, and in 1781 a "Department of Foreign Affairs" was established. Robert R. Livingston of New York was the first Secretary, and he was succeeded by John Jay. The entire staff in those days, including the envoys abroad, numbered only fourteen. The business of the Department was conducted in two rooms, and five record-books served to hold all its correspondence and reports, including its accounts.

When the new Constitution came into effect in 1789, the first executive department provided for was a Department of State. The new office had certain duties in addition to the conduct of foreign affairs. It was "to provide for the safe-keeping of the acts, records, and great seal of the United States; for the publication, preservation, and authentication of the acts of Congress," and so forth. It thus became the most important of the government departments and its secretary was named to succeed to the powers of the Presidency in case of the death of the President and Vice-President.

Thomas Jefferson was the first Secretary of State. He was afterward elected President, a precedent which was followed in the case of five of his successors, Madison, Monroe, John Quincy Adams, Van Buren, and Buchanan. Several other Secretaries of State, such as Henry Clay, Daniel Webster, James G. Blaine, William Jennings Bryan, and Charles Evans Hughes, have been prominent candidates for the Presidency. Thus the office has always been considered one of the most responsible in the government.

The chief duty of the Secretary is to advise the President on the conduct of our relations with other countries. While the actual power to declare war belongs to Congress, all of the preliminary matters which may lead to or avoid war are handled by the State Department. And it is the chief adviser of the President in making treaties of peace or other international agreements.

To enable the Department to do this work, all of the representatives

Author of "China and the Powers," etc.

of the United States abroad report to and receive their instructions from the Secretary of State. In the more important capitals such as London, Paris, Tokyo, and Buenos Aires are ambassadors. Of these diplomatic officers of the highest rank, the United States now has fourteen. In the capitals of states where we are not represented by ambassadors are stationed ministers. The United States has thirty-eight legations, as the establishments of ministers are called, in foreign countries. In a few of the smaller countries where our interests are not large, we are represented by consuls-general who act as "ministersresident."

Besides the ambassadors and ministers and their staffs of secretaries and clerks, the Department of State has in all of the important cities of the world officers known as consuls. In the great commercial centers are higher consular officers who are designated consuls-general. These officials have numerous duties in connection with the handling and promotion of trade, the protection of American citizens abroad, and the care of their property in case of their death in a foreign country. If you are traveling anywhere in the world, in Europe, in China, or in South America, and you get into trouble of any kind, the first thing to do is to find the nearest American consul and put yourself in his hands. There are nearly 200 consular headquarters, and in each of them are officers ready to assist you out of your difficulties.

All of the consular officers and all of the diplomatic secretaries belong to what is known as the Foreign Service. These men make diplomacy their life-work, just as an army or navy officer devotes himself to his profession. It used to be that any politician could secure a consular appointment for one of his friends, no matter how poorly qualified the man might be for the work he would be expected to do. But that time has passed. Men are admitted to the Foreign Service only after passing examinations, and they can only be discharged for failure properly to perform their tasks.

The State Department not only has to supervise the work of all of these officers abroad, but it is the place to which foreign representatives in this country bring all of the matters with which they are charged. There

are twelve ambassadors and twice as many ministers representing various foreign nations in Washington, and all of these frequently have business which demands the attention of the high officials of the Department of State. Then too, international conferences on all kinds of subjects, disarmament, opium, radio, tariffs, and many others, are becoming more and more frequent, and all of these require study and attendance on the part of our diplomats.

With all of this increase in foreign business which has come to Uncle Sam as he has assumed a more important position in the world, the Department of State has long since outgrown the two rooms it began with back in 1781. After various moves to secure larger quarters, it moved in 1875 to the remarkable structure across the street from the White House, known as the "State, War, and Navy Building." Since then the State Department has entirely crowded out the Navy, and many of the War Department offices are in other buildings. In time, the international business of the country will occupy the whole building, if plans for a State Department Building, made in 1911 and dropped because of the war, are not carried out.

Behind the innumerable columns of the present structure, nearly seven hundred officers, secretaries, and clerks are at work on the foreign business of Uncle Sam. At their head is, of course, the Secretary of State. His chief assistants are an Undersecretary and four Assistant Secretaries. These are the men who bring all the facts together, study possible courses of action, and consult with the Secretary in the formation of policy. Their work is vital to the welfare of the people of the United States, for a mistake on their part may mean injury to the rights of American citizens and, in some cases, may even lead to war. The importance of these positions has been greatly increased since the World War, but Congress has not yet recognized it and the salaries paid to these officials are not sufficient for their living expenses in Washington.

Below the Assistant Secretaries are the Chiefs of Division. The world is divided into six divisions for special study. These are Western Europe, Eastern Europe, The Near East, The Far East, Mexico, and Latin

URING the war with England in 1812, a Scotchman by the name of Alexander Stuart, carried supplies for American soldiers from Albany to Buffalo. The route by which he went is now a series of excellent State roads which a motor-car can traverse between a summer dawn and dark; Stuart required two weeks to cover the distance.

The wagon he drove was not the covered Conestoga of the Western pioneers; it was topless, his supplies being snugly protected by layers of canvas, and boat-shaped, high at front and back, curving to its lowest depth in the middle of the sides. So massively was it constructed that, empty, and on a hard road, the roar of it could be heard half a mile away. Under it hung pails for watering the horses, and a green-painted tool-box for possible repairs along the way. Loaded, four good horses were needed to draw it.

These horses were dappled grays; so thorough a horseman was Stuart, so careful in conserving the animals' strength, while at the same time keeping to an unvarying schedule, that he was able to use the same four throughout an entire season. There were no relays waiting for him in the

"THE HORSES SCRAMBLED, MUD FLEW, THE INDIANS HEAVED AND PRIED AND PUSHED, AND THE WAGON CAME OUT"

scattered towns through, which he passed; he carried extra horseshoes as the motorist of the present day carries spare tires; if a horse should become crippled through casting a shoe or other accident, the whole team would be invalidated since it would have been impossible for fewer than the required four to handle the load. The harness, except for such parts of it as touched the animals, was of chain.

Much of the distance was of course covered at a walk, but even a Scotchman has a latent dramatic instinct, and on entering a town, Stuart would flick his leaders lightly with the longlashed whip he had the old four-inhand driver's trick of snapping the lash forward, touching a horse at any selected point, and catching the lash neatly in the hand holding the whip-stock, as it snapped back: at the same instant he would check the leaders sharply, a matter accomplished by a movement of the wrist and middle fingers of the left hand which held the four reins. The lead-grays, tossing their heads in acknowledgment of

familiar

signal, would break, arched-necked, into a hand-gallop, the wheelers following at a dashing trot, and in this fashion Stuart, blue-eyed, sober of face, and erect upon his high seat, would pass through the village, while people ran to their doors to see the Government wagon.

Alexander Stuart was a man of courage as one must be who drives alone through sparsely settled country in war time, carrying essential things to the army: medicine, stimulants for the wounded, even mail, at times. Not only as he neared Buffalo, was he exposed to danger, for at this time the campaign lay largely along the Niagara frontier, but there were perils all along the way, and not the smallest of these was the menace of hostile Indians.

Stuart contended that Indians had been unfairly used, that their animosity toward whites was prompted by the white man's treatment of them in the early days of exploration and colonization. He believed that fair dealing with an Indian evokes fair dealing in return, and cited as an example the harmony that had ex

otherwise, to the British.

His friends warned him that the Occasionally Stuart encountered prejudice and ill-feeling was now of Tonawanda Indians as he neared the too long standing to be changed in trading-post, but so far they had favor of one well-disposed individual. never molested him. Gravely and Moreover, it was well-known that silently they watched the passing of the British had Indian allies, and the wagon, acknowledged with cold that, along the region bordering the dignity, Stuart's fearless and direct frontier, there must be many who, gaze and silent gesture of good-will. while not openly aiding the British, He sometimes thought of how easily were sympathizers with them and a stray arrow darting from the forest with tribal brothers fighting under along the trail could find a mark in the English colors. Thus, a carrier him, and breathed more freely when of supplies for the United States distance was put between him and army was exposed not only to the the Tonawandas; relieved not only Indians' general dislike of any white for personal danger averted once man, but also to their particular more, but because he took pride in hatred of a foe to the power to which the fact that never, so far, had he they had given allegiance. Occupy- failed to arrive at headquarters on ing territory east and north of time and with supplies intact. Buffalo, at that time only a small trading-post, was the Tonawanda tribe; these people, while not officially organized against either side, were

Dignity and courage appeal to an Indian; whatever trepidation Stuart may have felt, was never betrayed by his grave and level eyes, his expression

unhurried way. They permitted him to pass, unharmed.

It was in the early autumn of 1814. Heavy rains had made the trip unusually arduous this time. Through Central New York the roads had been bad enough, but there gravelly soil prevailed, and as Stuart entered the level region of the Tonawandas, sticky with clay, progress became a torture, and he was still twenty miles from Buffalo. He drove with his usual cautious judgment, but through here the country was primitive and little-traveled, the slippery footing and heavy roads made difficult going for the tired horses and lumbering wagon, and in spite of his most watchful efforts, Stuart miscalculated. With a jolt, the wagon rocked into a mud-hole; the horses threw their weight into the collars but the wagon stuck fast.

A man carrying a rough cargo,

could have tossed it off, lightened the load, gotten out and reloaded, but the delicate commodities Stuart transported could not be dumped carelessly upon wet ground under drifting rain. He got out his ax, cut a tough young tree and tried to use it as a lever in raising the most deeply embedded wheel. This necessitated getting down from his seat and, standing beside the wagon, reins in one hand, lever in the other, attempting at such disadvantage not only to raise the weight of the wagon, but to start simultaneously four tired and discouraged horses, at the same time guiding them toward the side of the road where the footing might be firmer. An interval of shouting and effort followed; the horses plunged and slipped. Even with the help of the improvised lever, every ounce of strength in every one of the animals, working with the unanimity of one horse, would be needed to get the load under way. It was more than one man could manage. While one horse was scrambling frantically, another would have thrown himself back in the breeching in preparation for a fresh effort; by the time that one had plunged into the collar the first would have relaxed his effort. In the midst of this lack of team-work, the pole would seize the opportunity to slip from under the wheel.

For the first time in Stuart's service to the Government, the supplies would be late. He needed help and there was no source from which he could get it. Then, suddenly, he was not alone. Silently as the fall of the rain upon the yellow clay, an Indian stepped into the trail beside him. And this man was followed by another several-a dozen. Stuart looked at them. If his friends spoke the truth, the time had come for him to begin to worry. But he looked at them fearlessly, smiled, stepped back and made a gesture of amused despair toward the careening wagon and the steaming horses. The chief smiled grimly and bent forward to peer at the front wheels now embedded in clay almost to the axle. Stuart addressed him in English, but the man made no answer. Either he understood or spoke no English, or he preferred to give that impression. He walked around the wagon, looked attentively at it, returned, gave a gutteral order to his followers, indicated that Stuart should get back upon the seat. Another Indian cut a tree similar in size to the one Stuart had been trying to use, and inserted it under the opposite wheel, others stood ready to throw their weight upon the levers, still others stationed themselves along the back and sides of the

After that, in passing through this section, he used to watch for his friends and sometimes saw one or more of them. The same ceremony always followed; Stuart stopped the team, descended from the seat, stood among them, addressed them courteously in English, and gravely shook hands. Silently they always took his hand, listened to his greetings with gravity and courtliness equal to his own, and watched him drive away.

And so, between this white man and the Indians, who could not understand a word of each other's language, this queer friendship continued, limited to hand-shaking and friendly looks. Another man might have showered modest gifts upon them, but not Stuart-for two reasons: one being that he was a Scotchman, the other that he considered the Indians too important people to be "tipped" for service rendered. But they seemed to understand each other, and Stuart looked forward to these meetings as breaks in the monotony of the long drive, and SO the autumn months passed.

There came a day when, a little behind his schedule, he was making the best time he could toward Buffalo, hoping that the delay of the brief exchange of amenities might be avoided for once. But apparently the whole tribe was out; never had he seen so many Indians. He stopped, descended from his seat as usual, but this time they ignored him. They gathered about the four grays, bent calculating glances upon the intricacies of the chain-harness, began to detach the horses from the wagon. Stuart hurried to them, shook his head, remonstrated; they brushed him aside and continued to unharness, not scientifically, but effectively.

He had a shot-gun, but what would one weapon and one man avail

and this tribe, hitherto, so far as anyone knew, neutral to the American forces. It was a time for discretion, and, aside from expostulations to which they blandly turned deaf ears, he made no resistance.

Leaving the wagon standing beside the trail, taking the grain-bags and leading the horses, gesturing to Stuart to accompany them, they went into the woods and headed for their camp.

Stuart followed. He had the instinct of the horseman to stay with his horses. And they also were Government property and as valuable as the contents of the deserted wagon. What might be in store for him and even for his four faithful grays who had shared his hardships, he did not know. And yet, the attitude of the Indians did not seem hostile.

Arriving at the camp, they invited him to sit down with them to supper. He ate with them, then rose, shook hands all around, and made a short speech which in substance was that, while he had had a perfectly marvelous time and everything had been simply lovely, he must now tear himself away. They showed him where he was to sleep.

This was getting past a joke; it was carrying hospitality too far. He spent the short fall evening getting important-seeming men of the tribe into corners, and trying to impress upon them the gravity of his situation, and likewise the importance of his reaching Buffalo some time that night. They listened politely, but he believed he caught a gleam in their inscrutable eyes which might be only mischief, but might mean malice also. The horses had been fed, staked out for the night, and watered, and the Indians were beginning to retire to their tepees. The camp-fires were dying. Yielding at last, he went to the place assigned him. When the camp was quiet, he rose cautiously and crept toward the opening of his wigwam. Perhaps he had an idea that he might be able to sneak four horses with a jingling chain-harness out of a sleeping Indiancamp without his departure being noticed, but if he had any such wild dream, it was dispelled by what he