publics, served as United States Consul, and offered his sword
to President McKinley for use against Spain. But with Servia the most
active portion of the life of the general ceased, and the rest has been
a repetition of what went before. At present his time is divided between
New York and Virginia, where he has been offered an executive position
in the approaching Jamestown Exposition. Both North and South he has
many friends, many admirers. But his life is, and, from the nature of
his profession, must always be, a lonely one.

While other men remain planted in one spot, gathering about them a home,
sons and daughters, an income for old age, MacIver is a rolling stone,
a piece of floating sea-weed; as the present King of England called him
fondly, "that vagabond soldier."

To a man who has lived in the saddle and upon transports, "neighbor"
conveys nothing, and even "comrade" too often means one who is no longer
living.

With the exception of the United States, of which he now is a
naturalized citizen, the general has fought for nearly every country in
the world, but if any of those for which he lost his health and blood,
and for which he risked his life, remembers him, it makes no sign. And
the general is too proud to ask to be remembered. To-day there is no
more interesting figure than this man who in years is still young enough
to lead an army corps, and who, for forty years, has been selling his
sword and risking his life for presidents, pretenders, charlatans, and
emperors.

He finds some mighty changes: Cuba, which he fought to free, is free;
men of the South, with whom for four years he fought shoulder to
shoulder, are now wearing the blue; the empire of Mexico, for which he
fought, is a republic; the empire of France, for which he fought, is a
republic; the empire of Brazil, for which he fought is a republic; the
dynasty in Servia, to which he owes his greatest honors, has been wiped
out by murder. From none of the eighteen countries he has served has he
a pension, berth, or billet, and at sixty he finds himself at home in
every land, but with a home in none.

Still he has his sword, his blanket, and in the event of war, to obtain
a commission he has only to open his tin boxes and show the commissions
already won. Indeed, any day, in a new uniform, and under the Nineteenth
Flag, the general may again be winning fresh victories and honors.

And so, this brief sketch of him is left unfinished. We will mark