Year: 1878

Ihe men VINO make ana UuulaAe statesmen
and heroes DO not often get any credit for them
selves. Yet there are not q few who act the
heroic amidst the common place. Even the
humble reporter who appears night after night
at his post Of duty and labors on, well or sick, g.,
writing column after column for the public
testing when himself weary-joyous in print
when suffering IN his own person the agonies
Of the damned. They write of others but are
themselves uuwritten Occasionally you hear
of them, as when MacGahan died the other
day in London. lie vas" says Archibald
Forbes his rival in reputation as a war cores
poudcnt, a" man who always contrived to
show good front"


Some strcaks of hard luck never daunted
his frank, gallant cheerfulness. He never was
man to lAict upon his readers himself and
his personal bardships and trials. Nobody to
read his letter. and kilograms during the long
weary interval between the September attack
on Plevna and the final fall of 0smnn's i'm
poyerishcd fortrcsses, could gather any hint
that during that period the writer had been
four times down with malarial fever. And
down where and how? Notiu snug quarters;
not even in Bulgarian hut not even under
cover from the rain and snow. The man who
was down with young Slobelefi lay, like dog
10 ditch. MacGahau blttled with the fever
in a sheltered corner Of the trench behind the
paulemeut with soldiers standing on the ban
tuette in front of him, the Turkish shells and
bullets whis,iug over him, and the snow driz-
zle dripping on him from the edge Of Sko-
beliefs second grcat-coat But the mans good
heart and even mind carried lim through
everything. lie had an equanimity that was
positively heroic lie never chafed never
" grzzlcd, to use homely but expressive
word. | never knew him even q little bit
down on his luck save once, and that was
when on a pitch dark night, at the Danube
bridge head, his horse strayed away while he
was negotiating access to the bridge, and he
lost not only the beast aud his meagre kit, for
which he cared little, but also a long letter
which he had written, aud was conveying to
post AT Bucharest, for which he cared much.
have spoken Of his equanimity- it was but
a phrase Of his daunlless courage, that daunt-
less courage which carried him on alone
through the desert Of Khiva, spite Of the OBJ
stacles which are by no means all recounted in
his wonderful book. I've seen him under
heavy fire, his fault as a correspondents re-
sponsibility, was that be habitually exposed
himself too recklcssly to Gre; and have en-
WED him his matchless coolness. For a man
who had never teen soldier, and who had
made no special study Of the art Of war, his
military perception amounted to intuition.


Let me recount the physical h;udrances IN
der which MacGahan distinguished himself so
brilliantly in the recent campaign. At Kiss
henca, in the early part OF April, he broke
one Of the bones of his ankle when riding a
Young Cossack horse belonging TO Prince
Tsertelec. When met him first on the plat
form Of the railway station at Jassy, he was
Hmping along with this ankle enclosed in a
mask Of plaster Of p,ris lie was still lame
when he started into Bulgaria with GourkO's
Colnmn.


At the entrance to the Hankioj Pass lis
horse slipped up and fell on him. and the RI
der, attempting to rise, found that one Of the
small bones Of the same leg was broken. Most
men would have tried to make their way back
to TirnoYa, and accepted the invalid condition
until meudeJ. MacCahan go: himself hoisted
on the Top Of an ammunition cart. Later in
the same DAY the ammunition cart rolled over
on him and bruised him sorely. But be strug-
rled on ;ndomitably till Kezlplik was reached,
and then had a short spell Of rest. But be was
in the saddle again long ere lis broken bone
vas properly set; aud as a fact he never gave
i, time properly to set Z. all Rather than be
out of it. he deliberately accepted the prophs-
sled fate Of being lame FOR life; aud have no
doub. that be died lame lie went through
the campaign SO greata cripple that be could
not walk a mile, and when saw him last, a.
Christmas tine, tie lameness had become
chronic"


Brave NAN.


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