Roosevelt offers me a place in his Cabinet—I retire permanently from private business—I become Secretary of the Department of Commerce and Labor—-The scope of the department—My bureau chiefs—At home in the Venetian Palace—Cabinet dinners—What Roosevelt drank—Roosevelt's fondness for terrapin—South Carolina labor immigration—The Japanese question; the "Gentlemen's Agreement"; General Kuroki's visit; the courts and Japanese naturalization—My trip to Hawaii; Viscount Ishii—Japanese transits between Canada and Mexico; Japanese immigration statistics; I suggest a naturalization treaty with Japan—Anti-Japanese agitation renewed in California—The Four Power Treaty of the Washington Conference—Immigration head tax immunity for diplomats—Revision of naturalization laws; prevention of fraudulent naturalization—More frequent steamboat inspection —The Alaskan salmon fisheries—Organization of the Council of Commerce, predecessor to the Chamber of Commerce of the United States—The Council of Labor—Roosevelt's Nobel Peace Prize Foundation—A visit to Georgia; my old homes at Columbus and Talbotton—Quentin Roosevelt—Social life in Washington; Christmas celebration in the White House; the President's New Year's reception; I give the last Cabinet dinner.
Before I became a member of President Roosevelt's official family, I was in what he termed his "kitchen cabinet." My experiences in both cabinets are among the treasured recollections of my life.
We were the unofficial advisers who met round the luncheon and dinner table and afterwards in the White House study, where the President spoke without reserve of his executive problems and read for our criticism and counsel his rough drafts of congressional messages, speeches, and notes to foreign governments.
Holding no portfolios of state, these "kitchen cabinet ministers" yet gave of their best; were always prepared to toil to any extent to be of assistance to the President. He had the quality of vitalizing things—a situation or condition coming within his executive ken became so charged with life and imagination that men wanted to put their hands and minds to it. They served Roosevelt as energetically and loyally as if the grave responsibilities of state were upon their own shoulders.
International relations and labor arbitration were the public activities which interested me most. The President had appointed me a member of the permanent board of arbitration at The Hague to succeed the late Benjamin Harrison, and shortly thereafter in his charming manner had designated me as a member of his "kitchen cabinet." Thus there had commenced for me a memorable series of conferences.
There is much misapprehension regarding Roosevelt's so-called impulsiveness. This was evident to those who had an intimate view of the man at work. He was quick. He was a prodigious worker. He was so constituted and so self-trained that he had to do things immediately, get them out of the way. What people called his impulsiveness might have been more aptly termed his preparedness.
I had hundreds of opportunities to observe his methods. When he accepted an invitation to deliver an address or write an article, he would prepare it immediately, even if the occasion were two, three, or six months off. He revised considerably, showed his work freely to friends and associates for criticisms, but completed it at the earliest opportunity. He never waited. This method served to perfect his thought and expression on a given subject. His promptness left him free for other things.
The President never seemed to be hurried, though he always worked with a wonderful driving force. He seemed never to waste any time. It was play or work, and both with his whole heart.
His public addresses were almost invariably the result of preparation. It was seldom that he spoke extemporaneously. The fire and animation which he imparted in the delivery of his speeches certainly conveyed no impression that they might have been carefully prepared and considered at a desk in a study. The pages of his manuscript were so small and inconspicuous that they did not interfere with his natural gestures. The effect was almost as if he spoke extemporaneously. The written address, printed on sheets about 3 × 6 inches, and held in one hand, was completely lost sight of by the audience in those moments when Colonel Roosevelt became emphatic. In those moments he also interspersed extemporaneous remarks which brought out his arguments more vividly and forcefully.