resources, for the sake of helping a man who had in him such qualities, came to his side and put him on the high road of additional and larger success.

"His high qualities drew to him the good will of his associates in political life in an eminent degree. They believed in him, felt his kindness, confided in his honesty and in his honor. His qualities even associated with him in kindly relations those who were his political opponents. They made it 'possible for him to enter that land with which he, as one of the soldiers of the union, had been in some sort at war and to draw closer the tie that was to bind all the parts in one firmer and indissoluble union. They commanded the confidence of the great body of Congress, so that they listened to his plans and accepted kindly, and hopefully, and trust fully, all his declarations.

"His qualities gave him reputation, not in this land alone, but throughout the world, and made it possible for him to minister in the style in which he has within the last two or three years ministered to the welfare and peace of humankind. It was out of the profound depths of his moral and religious character that came the possibilities of that usefulness which we are all glad to attribute to him.

"And will such a man die? Is it possible that he who created, redeemed, transformed, uplifted, illumined such a man will permit him to fall into oblivion? The instincts of morality are in all good men. The divine word of the Scripture leaves us no room for doubt. 'I,' said one whom we trusted, 'am the resurrection and the life. He that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die.'

"Lost to us, but not to his God. Lost from earth, but entered heaven. Lost from these labors, and toils, and perils, but entered into the everlasting peace and ever-advancing progress. Blessed be God, who gives us this hope in the hour of our calamity and enables us to triumph through him who hath redeemed us.

"If there is a personal immortality before him let us also rejoice that there is an immortality and memory in the hearts of a large and ever-growing people, who, through the ages to come, the generations that are yet to be, will look back upon this life, upon its nobility, and purity, and service to humanity and thank God for it.

"The years draw on when his name shall be counted among the illustrious of the earth. William of Orange is not dead. Cromwell is not dead. Washington lives in the hearts and lives of his countrymen. Lincoln, with his infinite sorrow, lives to teach us and lead us on. And McKinley shall sum

mon all statesmen, and all his countrymen, to pure living, nobler aims, sweeter and immortal blessedness."

Again the words and music of that favorite song, "Nearer, my God, to Thee," echoed through the great rotunda, and then the sad audience dispersed. The funeral of another President was ended.

In the midst of the singing Admiral Robley Evans, advancing with silent tread, placed a beautiful blue floral cross at the foot of the casket.

The last notes died away softly, and with uplifted hands the benediction was pronounced by the Rev. Dr. W. H. Chapman, acting pastor of the Metropolitan Church. This ended the religious service.

There was a pause for a few minutes while the ushers cleared the aisles, and the assemblage began to withdraw. First to retire was President Roosevelt, and as he entered so he left, preceded a short distance by Major McCawley and Captain Gilmore, with Colonel Bingham and Captain Cowles almost pressing against him.

The remainder of the company retired in the order in which they entered, the Cabinet members following the President, and after them going the diplomatic corps, the Supreme Court, Senators and Representatives, officers of the army and navy, and officials of less degree.

As soon as the rotunda was cleared of those who had been invited to attend the religious services the bier was prepared for passage out through the west exit.

The people came in double file, one line passing to the right and the other to the left of the casket. Only a hurried glance was permitted to any one, as it was announced that the ceremony would close promptly at 6:30 o'clock. Whenever there was an attempt to linger, especially over the casket, as there was in many instances, the person making it was admonished by the Capitol police to "pass on." When they still remained they were pushed along. In this way about one hundred and thirty people were enabled to view the remains every minute.

CHAPTER XXXV.

LYING IN STATE AT THE CAPITOL.

As soon as the funeral service in the Capitol had concluded, and the audience had dispersed, the guards took their places about the casket, and the big bronze doors of the Capitol were thrown open, and the crowds were admitted. They came in two long lines from both the east and west portals and passed down, one on either side of the catafalque. It was the intention to have those who entered at the east door pass out at the west, and those who came in from the west-from the Pennsylvania avenue side-to leave at the opposite entrance. But the local police arrangements had been very imperfectly provided, and confusion resulted. Had the day been fair probably no untoward circumstances would have marred the solemnity of the occasion. But the storm without added to the discomfort of the crush; and the first two hours of the lying in state made up a scene to be regretted. The crowding at times almost approached the frenzy of a panic. Men were hustled, despite all their struggles. Women and children were thrown down and trampled on. There was no noise, such as usually accompanies a panic in theatres, or on the occasion of a fire, but there was a half-savage exercise of brute force, a dumb insistence on position. And against that frightful pressure human strength was helpless. Men were pressed as with the impetus of engines against stone walls and columns. Women were ground against the sharp angles of granite, or hurled without warning upon the wounding edges of marble.

The force of police provided was wholly inadequate, and for two sad hours the lines that viewed the dead missed the characterization of a mob only because of their evident sympathy.

Men with clothes torn, women with bleeding faces appeared continually in the lines; and back to the south in the rotunda, toward the senate wing, was gathered a constantly increasing company of those who had been injured.

As soon as the faulty condition was discovered those in charge of the funeral ceremonies had called on the police department for a better control; and the reserves were ordered out. Even then it seemed a hopeless time before they could get in position, and restore order in the boundless crowds.

It was the one feature up to that time which had marred the solemn stateliness of the funeral.

As it was, the crowds were simply flung through the bronze doors, and projected to the very side of the casket, where they appeared half hysterical, and wholly lost to the impressive nature of the hour.

Coincident with the restoration of order by the reinforced police, came the ambulances from the Emergency Hospital; and scores were taken away for treatment, while other scores were treated without removal from the rotunda.

After the reserves had taken their places, and had controlled the crowds, a steady, orderly procession came through the doors from 12 o'clock noon until 6 in the evening. In that time more than 30,000 persons passed the casket of their dead chief, and looked for the last time on his pain-marked face.

The appearance of the casket which contained the body of the martyred President was particularly impressive. It was wrapped entirely in a beautiful American flag. Over the top of the casket were laid three groups of flowers, that at the end being a conspicuous sheaf which had been prepared at the express request and under the personal direction of the new President of the United States.

Many beautiful floral designs were grouped around the casket. Conspicuous among them was a massive cushion floral tribute in the form of an army badge from the G. A. R. and offerings from the Loyal Legion and other soldier organizations. General Corbin, now en route home from Manila; General Adna R. Chaffee, and the Commissioners of Porto Rico had floral offerings laid about the bier.

A design of over six feet in diameter composed of galax leaves and American beauty roses, about which was entwined the American flag, came from the Mayor and Council of Richmond, Va. Other tributes came from Mrs. James A. Garfield, widow of another martyred President; Mrs. Garret A. Hobart, Secretaries Hay and Hitchcock, General and Mrs. Miles, Ambassador Porter at Paris, the Argentine, Guatemalan, Costa Rican, and other legations, and the municipality of Havana.

The casket rested exactly beneath the center of the great dome of the Capitol, and surrounding it on all sides were the large historical paintings representing the greatest events of the life of the republic. Above, on the extreme top of the dome, was the beautiful historical painting of the apotheosis of George Washington, while on the floor itself, within easy range of

the eye from the center, were statues of Lincoln and Grant, the two great governmental personages of the present generation.

The casket was guarded by details of artillerymen, marines, and sailors. but it was hemmed in by such a distinguished circle of public men as to set it in a proper frame.

The big, black casket was the period at the end of an era. The marble effigies of the great men about it, the canvases on which the features of statesmen and soldiers lived in oil, were but the mute testimonies to a condition which had passed. The pale form, lying in state between moving lines of those who had loved him, was all that earth had left of the man who gathered together the possibilities of the past-who could express the spirit, the effectiveness and the hope of the future.

There was the statue of George Washington, twice a President, once maligned, now half deified. There was John Marshall, once Chief Justice of the United States; once a patriot soldier at Valley Forge; once presiding at the trial of Aaron Burr-whose hand had been raised in a bolder assault; but always the champion of law, the lover of order, the son of republican independence. There hung the portrait of Captain Lawrence—and his dying words carried new courage to the hearts of the mourners: "Don't Give Up the Ship!"

There was Madison, whose seat of government had been driven from the capital when the British assailed the nation in the war of 1812; the man who had watched from the hills to the north the smoke that rose from the burning buildings of the nation.

All the history of the past was bound up in the pictured forms and the marble allegories of that rotunda. And over it all lifted the painted interior of the dome, the apotheosis of that first President, who had been first in war, and first in peace, but who now made room for another beside him in the hearts of his countrymen.

All they had promised, all the nation of the past had hoped for and striven for had been expressed in the administration, had been made possible by the wise statesmanship of this hero who lay still and silent in death below them. And it seemed to the crowds that bent with bared heads as they passed by the coffin that the very death of this great man had made more secure the destiny of the nation.

Outside the storm raged more fiercely, and the people clamored against the savagery of an unguided crowd. Outside the winds were voicing their own requiem, and wailing at the feet of that symbol of liberty which crowns