onciliatory, a
capacity for sarcastic utterance that vividly recalled the days of
John Randolph and Tristram Burgess, and, withal, one of the ablest
men of his generation, Mr. Reed was in very truth a picturesque
figure in the House of Representatives. He apparently acted upon the
supposition of the philosopher Hobbes that war is the natural state
of man. The kindly admonition,

"Mend your ways a little
Lest they may mar your fortunes,"

if ever given him, was unheeded. In very truth,

"He stood,
As if a man were author of himself,
And knew no other kin."

No man in his day was more talked of or written about. At one time
his star was in the ascendent, and he seemed to be on the highroad
to the Presidency. His great ambition, however, was thwarted by
those of his own political household. At the close of a turbulent
session, while he was in the Chair, the usual resolution of thanks
to the Speaker "for the able, fair, and courteous manner in which he
had presided" was bitterly antagonized, and finally adopted only
by a strictly party vote. It was an event with a single antecedent
in our history, that of seventy-odd years ago, when the Whig minority
in the House opposed the usual vote of thanks to Speaker Polk upon
his retirement from the Chair. In the latter case, the cry of
persecution that was instantly raised had much to do with Mr. Polk's
almost immediate election to the Governorship of his State, and
his subsequent elevation to the Presidency. The parallel incident
in Mr. Reed's career, however, failed to prove "the prologue to
the swelling act."

The Hon. William McKinley, of Ohio, was a member of this Congress.
He was one of the most pleasing and delightful of associates, and my
acquaintance with him was of the most agreeable character. One of
his earliest official acts as President was my appointment as a
member of the Bimetallic Commission to Europe.

Mr. McKinley was in very truth one of Fortune's favorites: five
times elected a member of the House of Representatives, three times
Governor of his State, and twice elevated to the Presidency. He
was the third of our Presidents to fall by the hand of an assassin.
His tragic death is yet fresh in our memories.

The last time I met President McKinley was at the Peace Jubilee
Banquet at the Auditorium in Chicago, on the evening of October
19, 1898. On this occasion, following the toast to the President of
the United States, I spoke as