tion, and the Republic became a Union indeed. After all, blood is thicker than water; and he who uttered that

"--bubbling cry

Of some strong swimmer in his agony-"

was an American. Of course America was roused.

The story of the War with Spain has been well told. But it fails to impress its moral if you miss the master hand of President McKinley in fixing forever the unity of the Union. He appointed to the command of American soldiers those who had commanded with ability, either North or South, in the Civil War. And they proved his sagacity, for—without exception—they quit them like men. They were strong. The flag of Washington at Valley Forge, of Gates at Yorktown, of Jackson at New Orleans, of Perry on Lake Erie, of Lawrence, and Fremont, and Grant was the one banner about which they rallied. They won the war. And they brought no honor to either North or South-but brought it all HOME.

This cannot well be overestimated. The time had come when the Republic must advance from the formative stage to the stature of a power of the world. It could not do so divided. Through the skillful use of possibilities placed in his hands by the war, President McKinley at a stroke, and within a week from that night in February when Havana harbor heaved with the heaving of a treacherous stroke, made his people one.

Then they were ready!

Swiftly came the knocking of Hawaii for admission to the national fold. It needed no war. No cannon, no circling sword or plunging bayonet was in demand. The thousands of lives sought citizenship in the Republic, and the material millions offered themselves for the nation's enrichment. And in a day the United States of America held half the ocean as its own.

No need of recapitulating. The Ladrones, Porto Rico, and the Philippines, an empire wider than Ferdinand knew, a region richer in wealth and more pregnant with possibility than Carthage conquered, was added to the Republic in a year. The nation which had insisted on a home market, had taken command of the markets of the world. The nation which had only insisted that no foreign power interfere on this side the Atlantic, stretched the arm of might and the word of command into the camps of kings-and secured obedience.

Nothing that occurred in the United States could in any way have produced the events which took place in China. The Boxer rebellion was a

local event, due solely to conditions existing there. American interests-of merchant and missionary, of embassador and traveller, of scientist and scholar-were all affected by those massacres which amazed the world. Imagine, if you will, what would have been the result had the Republic been in 1900 what it was in 1890. Then we had no army in the Philippines. The nations of Europe, hurrying in response to that cry for help from the hundreds in the legation, had small thought of America. Well, American merchants had been massacred, American property destroyed, American missions burned and American consuls assailed. But to the European of 1890 there would not have been a suggestion of America appearing on the scene with force of arms.

But the America of 1900 providentially had a force at hand. The fact had already been established that the Republic was a world power, and must be considered as such. And when General Chaffee marched from Tien Tsin to Pekin, he was not regarded as an intruder. He was not looked upon with cold superciliousness. The king's men knew there was no place on the face of the earth where the Republic might not appear. They knew it had the right to appear at any point where its interests were menaced, or where honor called. And they knew it had the power to go, to do, and to return with laurels.

Perhaps the Republic's influence over the king's men at Pekin was the greatest evidence of President McKinley's masterly administration. That influence checked the looting. It preserved native rights. It assisted in a just retribution, and then stayed the mailed fist of unchristian vengeance. It prevented the partition of China, and insured the integrity of that ancient empire. And it loomed before the world as a nation strong enough to take care of itself at home or abroad, and wise enough to be just. It was an exhibition that did more for the good fame of the Republic than any other act imaginable.

And not a detail of it could have happened had not the army been in Luzon. Not a detail could have happened in 1890!

It is not easy for a little man to change his mind. The small man must be "consistent," because he can see nothing but small things; because he can not appreciate the changes which inevitably come in the world. But the world does change; and he who tries to make the clothes of yesterday fit the occasion of to-day makes utter failure. Not many men who followed Major McKinley, the protectionist, could easily grasp the purpose of President McKinley, the supporter of the gold standard. Not all who indorsed

him in his financial policy could appreciate the swift changes which succeeded each other in the world policies from 1898 to 1901. Yet each was necessary in its place, and if the President had failed to grasp the situation, if he had failed to take at its flood that tide in the affairs of nations, the Republic that mourns him to-day would be but a hermit Union, refusing to employ its majestic powers and of no more consideration in the assembly of nations than is the navy of Switzerland in a marine exhibition.

No year ever brought swifter development to a people than did 1898 to the United States of America. Questions of military policy and questions of statesmanship, matters of immediate expediency and matters that looked to the future—all these crowded the hurrying hours of that most immemorial year. It is not curious that even the President was outrun by the speeding conditions. When Porto Rico became a part of the United States it was asked: "Shall her products come in free at the ports of the mainland?" And President McKinley, pressed upon by a multitude of duties, occupied with a myriad cares, filling his days and his nights with most careful watching of details that had multiplied in a twelvemonth, said: "It is our plain duty to give free trade to Porto Rico." And the word was heralded to the ends of the earth. Then came the practical. If that sound theory should be en forced in actual commerce, a disturbance would arise which would prove lamentable. It were better to preserve the forms of a tariff until such time as revenues of the island would support the government of the island, giving back, meanwhile, every dollar derived from the Porto Ricans by that tariff. The changing conditions had made that the wiser plan.

President McKinley led his fellow countrymen through the changes of the passing years, guiding them always in the way most wise for that peculiar time, and turning to new methods when the new occasion demanded. And in the end we see the magnificent structure which his planning and his labors have perfected. We see the very greatest nation on earth, made great by protection; we see the richest nation, made rich with a sound money; we see the strongest nation, made strong by an actual union; and we see the most potent and influential nation on earth, made so by the foreign policy of William McKinley. Remember

"For I doubt not through the ages

One increasing purpose runs;

And the thoughts of men are widening
With the process of the suns."

CHAPTER XXVI.

PRIVATE LIFE OF WILLIAM MCKINLEY.

"Mother McKinley" often expressed the keynote of the case when she said: "He was a good boy."

She by no means meant that young William lacked virile and manly qualities. On the contrary, she used to delight in telling of the mischievous pranks which had made a part of his boyhood existence. But there was a judgment and good sense about his escapades which absolutely prevented them from partaking of the nature of cruelty and saved him at all times from acts which might bring shame in their train of consequences. He was a "good" boy, in the sense that he was not a "mean" boy. And so, while he was always certain to command the respect of his companions-of all that was best in boyhood-he was a loving and a dutiful son. He was never afflicted with the silly theory that a boy need not obey nor respect his parents. For this those parents doubtless deserve a large measure of credit. Besides so measuring their lives as to deserve his respect, they so ordered his life as to insure his obedience. And in his whole life it is said that he never wounded either father or mother with an insolent word.

He was kind to his brother and his sisters. The money he earned he was always willing to share with them, and paid out many a dollar of his hardearned wages for their education or for little presents which could add to their happiness.

Toward his mother he was always lovingly deferential. To the day of her death he was solicitous about her, tenderly caring for her, unwaveringly thoughtful. A very beautiful relation was that which existed between them. And no mother was ever more proud of her son, or with more reason declared that he had grown up to be precisely the sort of man she knew from the beginning he would be. Toward his father there was always a gentle deference, a filial respect and the fellowship which wise men can cultivate in their sons. His father lived to see him honored by his countrymen, and in the enjoyment of a happy home and a competence. And the stern old man who had chosen his location with a view of his children's good always a little relaxed the grim lines of mouth and brow, when this son of his honest manhood was in his presence.

And so it was that when he grew to maturity and established a home temple of his own, the habit of a lifetime was guaranty that he would bring happiness and not sorrow with him.

There is a pretty story current in Canton to the effect that young Major McKinley first met Ida Saxton shortly after locating in the little city, and that he admired her greatly. But she was scarcely more than a school girl at the time, the daughter of a banker, the granddaughter of an editor, and a girl of such beauty that the young man, with nothing but his profession and his hopes, with little practice and no property, might well regard her hopeless. Besides, there was small opportunity for them to be thrown together. The Saxtons were not attendants at the Methodist church, and were rarely seen at its social functions. They were persons of wealth and established position and much sought after.

Yet it could not escape him that the charmingly beautiful girl was his ideal, the divinity about whom the dreams of an honorable young man may be woven. She completed her studies at school, and went for a trip to Europe in company with her mother. They were gone a year. When they returned young Major McKinley had evidently advanced somewhat in worldly estate. He had secured a number of fees, and was saving money. As he lived at all times within his means, he had arrived at the honorable distinction of a bank account. It is probable he selected the Saxton bank solely because it was convenient of location, being near the stairway which led to his modest office, and directly on his way as he passed to and from the court-house. And yet it must have been a matter of agreeable surprise to him when he entered the bank one morning and found Miss Ida Saxton occupying a place at the cashier's window.

Of course they had met. It would scarcely have been possible for them to escape that. But there had been small acquaintance between them. And this new relation, which touched on the borders of both the business and the social life, was a means of developing an attachment which it is doubtful if any other course could have afforded.

Miss Saxton had taken a place in the bank because of an impulse, as common as it is honorable, that she must "do something." There was, of course, no necessity for her to struggle to become self-supporting. But there was, on the other hand, no purpose in her mind to be weakly dependent.

There was the place of their better acquaintance. There he learned to admire more and more the bright, happy young woman, as fair as the morning, and as careful as the American daughter should be. And there she learned