il of arms. They felt a time was coming when to
them should be addressed the stern admonition of the Apostle, "Quit you
like men; be strong."

The men who are living to-day and were young in 1860 will never forget
the glory and glamour that filled the earth and the sky when the long
twilight of doubt and uncertainty was ending and the time for action had
come. A speech by Abraham Lincoln was an event not only of high moral
significance, but of far-reaching importance; the drilling of a militia
company by Ellsworth attracted national attention; the fluttering of the
flag in the clear sky drew tears from the eyes of young men.
Patriotism, which had been a rhetorical expression, became a passionate
emotion, in which instinct, logic and feeling were fused. The country
was worth saving; it could be saved only by fire; no sacrifice was too
great; the young men of the country were ready for the sacrifice; come
weal, come woe, they were ready.

At seventeen years of age William McKinley heard this summons of his
country. He was the sort of youth to whom a military life in ordinary
times would possess no attractions. His nature was far different from
that of the ordinary soldier. He had other dreams of life, its prizes
and pleasures, than that of marches and battles. But to his mind there
was no choice or question. The banner floating in the morning breeze was
the beckoning gesture of his country. The thrilling notes of the trumpet
called him--him and none other--into the ranks. His portrait in his
first uniform is familiar to you all--the short, stocky figure; the
quiet, thoughtful face; the deep, dark eyes. It is the face of a lad who
could not stay at home when he thought he was needed in the field. He
was of the stuff of which good soldiers are made. Had he been ten years
older he would have entered at the head of a company and come out at the
head of a division. But he did what he could. He enlisted as a private;
he learned to obey. His serious, sensible ways, his prompt, alert
efficiency soon attracted the attention of his superiors. He was so
faithful in little things that they gave him more and more to do. He was
untiring in camp and on the march; swift, cool and fearless in fight. He
left the army with field rank when the war ended, brevetted by President
Lincoln for gallantry in battle.

In coming years when men seek to draw the moral of our great Civil War,
nothing will seem to them so admirable in all the history o