arbitrary form of government. And this reaction originated in the people themselves, who began to suspect those men who were responsible for this state of affairs.

Dr Roque Saenz Pena, when he came into power in 1910, was convinced that the country was ready for reform. He thoroughly realised that it would be necessary, not merely to amend the existing laws or to make new ones, but to encourage and foster in every citizen an intelligent interest in all matters of national concern. In his presidential campaign, he promised to observe absolute impartiality in all political matters; and in order to carry out this promise, from his first day of office, he severed all ties with the party that had supported him in his candidature. But 'party' in the Argentine signifies men and not opinions, so that Saenz Pena did not in any way renounce his former views, though taking the greatest pains to show no special favour to those who had helped him to his position. For the sake of a forcible example, he permitted himself no outward display of gratitude or friendship. This step was specially significant in a country where, by tradition and a false conception of loyalty, the President had always felt it his duty to raise members of his party to the highest posts in the State. By a kind of tacit agreement his will was thus completely bound up with each individual will of his friends and colleagues. By accepting outside assistance he thereby pledged himself to repay it, and thus entangled himself in a multiplicity of obligations, which hampered his every action. The needs of the State were entirely neglected, the sole aim of his administration being to enrich himself and his followers by every means in his power. The State therefore remained at the mercy of the President and his satellites, who were mutually dependent on one another; while the Executive, the Congress and the Provincial Governors formed a happy combination, whose sole object appeared to be to set the constitution at naught and turn everything to personal advantage.

Saenz Pena was desirous of putting a speedy end to this condition of things, a condition that crippled the power of the Executive and upset the whole machinery of constitutional government. He fully realised that, in separating himself from his friends and thus depriving

himself of their support-which was relied on as a matter of course by all former Presidents-he was cutting himself completely adrift and was thus risking the failure of his policy. But his care was for the State and not for the security of his own office, and in acting thus he hoped to increase the prestige of the Executive and strengthen its hands for the future. In order to keep the Executive free from all corrupt influences, he chose his ministers for their integrity rather than for their political leanings. But he did not confine himself merely to showing his intention of governing without the help of any political group; he seized every opportunity of letting the Provincial Governors know that he could do without their costly friendship. But, though he could dispense with their protection, he still required their loyalty; and he therefore left to each of the federal states full responsibility for its actions and absolute autonomy. Thus Congress gradually became composed of conscientious members who eventually transformed the once submissive ally of the Executive into a powerful independent body.

This step of Saenz Pena, which is clearly the indication of a master mind, may be regarded as the fundamental characteristic of his government. The change brought a sense of relief to the people, which had long awaited in vain its introduction. It meant no mere correction of past faults; it was the foundation stone of political and administrative honesty. Its effect was to keep each branch of the government within the bounds assigned to it by the constitution, and to make the people their own rulers; it was in fact the establishment of 'government for the people by the people.'

Roque Saenz Pena did not mislead the people when he announced that he would make the constitution his guide. He made them realise that the moral reform thus started meant the advent of good government, and that as President, in giving them this proof of confidence and esteem, and offering himself as their governor, he was in fact setting them in the position that they ought to hold in any true democracy.

The hearty reception accorded to this great change, both by the people and by the Press, showed clearly the feeling of grateful appreciation it had aroused among

the whole nation. It was evident that the success of the legislation which was bound to follow was already assured. It was in fact but the first step towards the introduction of a bill for the reform of the whole electoral system, which was destined to effect a sweeping political change. It soon became manifest that Roque Saenz Pena was no dreamer, but that he fully intended to carry his schemes into effect. The obvious inference to be drawn from his conduct was that he felt, above all, anxious to prevent corruption in the elections, to guarantee the purity of the ballot and the free exercise of the vote, in order that the candidates elected should be the true representatives of the people.

In January 1912 he laid before Parliament his Electoral Reform Bill, which at once met with keen, though not unexpected opposition; many members, elected under the old régime, perceived the risk of losing their seats under the proposed new system. The moral value of the Bill, however, was recognised, and the majority of members, though not pinning much faith to its working in actual practice, gave it their support; it seemed, on the face of it at any rate, a step in the right direction. Saenz Pena, strange as it may seem, found public opinion inclined the same way, both before and after the passing of the Bill. Though favourably disposed towards it, people were somewhat sceptical. They believed that it would be inoperative owing to the attitude of the politicians of the old school, who would probably find some means of evading the new law; they were afraid that corruption would still triumph, that the masses would vote no more freely than before; and they looked upon the whole thing as an impracticable Utopia. After a brilliant defence by the Minister of the Interior, M. Indalecio Gomez, the measure, despite all opposition, passed through the Lower House to the Senate and shortly afterwards became law.

The new statute established compulsory voting and the secret ballot, and provided for representation of the minority. The elector now now no longer holds a civil certificate, as formerly, but a military one, which contains his signature, his photograph and his finger-prints; and the register used in the elections is compiled by the officials of the War Office. This arrangement not only

acts as a great check upon impersonation, but has the advantage also of doing away with the old method of the census; the register is now not only a list of all citizens, but a list also of all those citizens fit for military service. The register, after being drawn up by the War Office, is revised by the federal judges, to ensure its accuracy. Any person on the list, who refuses to vote, is liable to a penalty of ten piastres or two days' imprisonment, while public servants are prohibited from taking any active part in the elections and from becoming candidates, without having previously handed in their resignations.

In order to record his vote, the elector has to present himself at one of the polling booths of his parish and take his military certificate with him. The officer in charge, after identifying him, hands him a special envelope and allows him to pass into the voting-room, where he finds the voting papers of each candidate. There the voter exercises his choice and places the paper in the envelope, which he then seals and slips into the box as he goes out, in the presence of the presiding official. The counting takes place in public, and the validity of the voting papers is secured by a committee composed of the President of the Court of Appeal, the President of the Municipal Council, and one of the federal judges. As formerly, Congress is the supreme tribunal for all questions concerning the validity of elections.

On April 7, 1912, the election of sixty deputies-to take the place of the half about to resign-gave the people their first opportunity of testing the new law and verifying the promises of strict impartiality that had been so freely given. The result showed that the President had been right; it confirmed his faith in public opinion and confounded the adversaries of the new system. It was a complete success. Out of an electorate of 934,401 persons, 840,852 voted at the 4,650 polling booths, whereas formerly scarcely 25 per cent. recorded their votes. The Radical Party, which for the past twenty years had taken no active part in any of the elections; the Civic Union, which in the end came near following the example of the Radicals: the Socialist Party, which had struggled in vain for eight years; the National Union, which under various different names

had triumphed at many successive elections, and several other parties of minor importance,-all took part in the contest. Corruption was not entirely absent, but it frequently rebounded against those who resorted to it. The voter open to bribery accepted bribes, but, owing to the secrecy of the ballot, was able to cheat the giver and drop his voting paper into the box of the party of his choice. Detection was impossible. Unscrupulous persons were thus enabled to gratify at once their greed, their sense of humour, and their consciences, at any rate so far as their politics were concerned. It no longer amounted to a fraud on the public; it was a mere private imposture.

The elections, which all took place on the same day, passed off peaceably and without any exercise of official pressure. The suffrage had been made free; the President had kept his word. The results were all declared together, some few weeks later. They formed a complete vindication of the new system and indicated the real views of the people, while showing up in their true colours the fictitious triumphs of past elections. Thus in Buenos Ayres the Radicals, who had not been able to enter the Chamber for twenty years, gained eight seats in the Lower House and one in the Upper; the Socialists won two seats, and the Civic Union one; while the National Union, which had formerly swamped every other party, kept only one, and that solely on account of the personal qualifications of the candidate.

The result came as a surprise, and produced the greatest satisfaction; it was practically a deliverance, a complete and thorough cleansing of politics; it was as though some foul thing had been swept from their midst, and a new vista of light and purity opened up before the eager eyes of the people. It is difficult to express in mere words the feeling of absolute satisfaction, not unmixed with a certain sense of pride, which was aroused in all classes of the community by this sudden revival of their civil rights and liberties, so long delayed.

The compulsory vote has finally roused the people from the state of indifference into which they had drifted. It is no longer useless for them to record their votes, no longer excusable to hold themselves aloof from the affairs of the nation. Those who were formerly