religious in his private life. The memory of Buffalo is too recent to require extended reference to that fact. Yet some further glimpse may be gained of the depth of his feeling, from the poem which he always regarded as his favorite. It was written by Abram J. Ryan, known as Father Ryan, and the ninth stanza was the one which McKinley most often quoted.

SONG OF THE MYSTIC1

I walk down the Valley of Silence —
Down the dim, voiceless valley - alone!
And I hear not the fall of a footstep
Around me, save God's and my own;
And the hush of my heart is as holy
As hovers where angels have flown!

Long ago was I weary of voices

Whose music my heart could not win;
Long ago was I weary of noises

That fretted my soul with their din;
Long ago was I weary of places

Where I met with the human and sin.

I walked in the world with the worldly;
I craved what the world never gave;
And I said: "In the world each Ideal,
That shines like a star on life's wave,
Is wrecked on the shores of the Real,

And sleeps like a dream in a grave."

1 From the Poems of Rev. Abram Joseph Ryan, by permission of P. J. Kenedy and Sons, New York.

And still did I pine for the Perfect,

And still found the False with the True; I sought 'mid the Human for Heaven,

But caught a mere glimpse of its Blue: And I wept when the clouds of the Mortal Veiled even that glimpse from my view.

And I toiled on, heart-tired of the Human, And I moaned 'mid the mazes of men, Till I knelt, long ago, at an altar

And I heard a voice call me. Since then I walk down the Valley of Silence That lies far beyond mortal ken.

Do you ask what I found in the Valley? 'Tis my Trysting Place with the Divine. And I fell at the feet of the Holy,

And above me a voice said: "Be mine." And there arose from the depths of my spirit An echo "My heart shall be thine."

Do you ask how I live in the Valley?

I weep - and I dream—and I pray.

But my tears are as sweet as the dewdrops That fall on the roses in May;

And my prayer, like a perfume from Censers, Ascendeth to God night and day.

In the hush of the Valley of Silence

I dream all the songs that I sing; And the music floats down the dim Valley, Till each finds a word for a wing,

That to hearts, like the Dove of the Deluge,
A message of Peace they may bring.

But far on the deep there are billows
That never shall break on the beach;

And I have heard songs in the Silence
That never shall float into speech;
And I have had dreams in the Valley
Too lofty for language to reach.

And I have seen Thoughts in the Valley
Ah! me, how my spirit was stirred!
And they wear holy veils on their faces,

Their footsteps can scarcely be heard;
They pass through the Valley like Virgins,
Too pure for the touch of a word!

Do you ask me the place of the Valley,
Ye hearts that are harrowed by Care?
It lieth afar between mountains,

And God and His angels are there:
And one is the dark mount of Sorrow,

And one the bright mountain of Prayer.

The growth in statesmanship of William McKinley is the best exemplification of his latent strength. He did not appear suddenly in the arena of the world's affairs, like Athena from the head of Zeus. He came modestly into Congress, accepted appointments upon minor committees, took up the study of the Tariff under such leaders as Garfield and Kelley, mastered the subject, became the foremost exponent of Protection, and as such went down with his party in defeat. It was his steadfastness in the face of this disaster and the widespread reaction in favor of his principles that nominated him for the

Presidency. It was then that he was called a man of one idea. But, singularly, he paused but a moment after his inauguration to give effect to his ideas regarding the Tariff. Then all the power of his intellect was turned to other and diverse problems for which he had had no specialized training. He gave up Bimetallism when that system became impracticable and became the stanch advocate of a single gold standard. The Spanish War came and without previous military experience, in a large sense, he took up the duties of commander-in-chief of the army and navy, personally directed every important movement, and brought the war to a speedy and successful issue. Without previous instruction in the delicate negotiations of international relations he became a great diplomatist. Mr. John Bassett Moore says: "As a diplomatist McKinley possessed rare gifts. Indeed, I may say that I have seldom come into contact with a man more richly endowed by nature with the faculties and aptitudes that fit one for the conduct of international affairs: and it was fortunate for the country that this was so, for at the time when he assumed the office of President the state of our international relations was difficult and disturbed." He was essentially a man of peace. He brought it to Cuba, to Porto Rico, and to the Philippines, and helped to reëstablish it in