The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1901-09-20

The last tribute, save that alone which
memory shall keep in sacred silence. has
been rendered by loving people 20 the
martyred president Of the renubIic
Bowed beneath a common sorrow. the
citizens of st. Paul joined yesterday with
the mourning millions of the land in
placing cypress leaves upon the altar of
nations sacrifice. Sore-stricken. with
the shaft of bitter bereavement, still
ranking in the heart, the people mourned
in somber silence and in gloom. with
scarce ray of light across the sky of
grief. And yet it was a grief that can
only come to people in whose high pa
trlot1Sm and unselfish citizenship the
SAFETY of great republic can rest. Back
of 1t all was a mighty hope, unvoiced of
lips, but eloquent in a silence which was
prophetic of time to come, when, out
OF the bitter experience of the hour. a
higher spirit of patriotism shall rise to
strike more inspiring music from the
chords of national life.
The very spirit of the peoples grief
was a spirit that symbolizes the indie
structibility of the republic. Through it
all was the rich promise that under the
alchemy of tears and tragic sorrow and
out of the crucible of pain and distress
should come unity welded by love and
bulit upon the sure foundation of a COM
mon purpose and common destiny
There was every evidence that the
mourning masses felt that in honoring
the dead they were honorng themselves.
and consecrating themselves to the high
ideals of citizenship for which, in the
truest sense, the lamented president died
Sad as was the experience, it was, at
the same time, a thrilling spectacle to
behold how the common sorrow had
drawn all classes together, and suddenly
given to every man a clearer sight as
across the nations grave all men clasped
hands in a truer fellowship and better
understanding.
Never has q tribute of love been so
universal as that of yesterday. All
men were there. and voicing but one
sentiment. All lines of distinction. all
divisions of creed, party, nationality and
faction. were wholly obliterated High
and low, rich and poor the scholar and
the merchant, the banker and the work.
err white man and black man. Joined to-
gether in the requiem.
Beneath a frowning sky-nature's har-
mony with the universal grief-to the
time of the martial dirge, the tread of
many feet resounded on the pavement.
as the sorrowful procession wended its
way through the massed throngs of citi-
2ens on both sides of the street 1t was
no trfumphal march, such as heralded
the coming OF the president year or so
ago, when in the strength and glory of
his life, he came West to give greeting
to the returning soldiers of the republic
No stirring music keeping tt ne with the
fast-beating hearts of the populace eager
to do homage to the head of the nation:
but slowly the silent hosts passed by
the tramp. tramp of the many feet
sounding upon the ear like the falling OF
clodS upon the coffin
PAID NO HEED TO RAIN.
Men stood in the streets with heads
uncovered in the drizzling mist, while
the parade passed, showing the same
reverence as if the mortal remains of the
dead had been there. For grief knows
not geography, and sorrow annihiIates
distance, and the thoughts of all were
at that grave in Canton, where at
last William Mckinley slept among his
first friends.
The most touching feature of the
parade was the presence of the old SOL
diers-the 'Old Guard"-royal in their
very feebleness. Going before them was
"Old Glory" a magnificent flag thirty
feet long, carried by eighteen veterans.
Many a hat came off as they went by,
and it was a temptation to cheer. The
hating step, the gray hairs of age,
the empty sleeve here and there. how
eloquent of sacrifice, how suggestive of