in loving a man for the dangers he had passed, the thought that there should be harbors less fluctuating, a lively appreciation of the achievements of pilots in boarding Atlantic liners. The broad decks of the Olympia, built by the builders of the matchless Oregon, had a comforting solidity under my feet. The Admiral was believed to be having a nap; but he was wide awake, and invited the visitor to take a big chair, which, after having accompanied the launch in the dance with the whitecaps, was peculiarly luxurious. The Admiral didn't mind me, and had a moment's surprise about an observer of long ago strolling so far from home and going forth in a high sea to make a call. I confessed to being an ancient Wanderer, but not an Ancient Mariner, and expressed disapprobation of the deplorable roughness of the California Albatross, a brute of a bird—a feathered ruffian that ought to be shot.

The Admiral would be picked out by close attention as the origin of some millions of pictures; but he is unlike as well as like them. Even the best photographs do not do justice to his fine eyes, large, dark and luminous, or to the solid mass of his head with iron-brown hair tinged with gray. He is a larger man than the portraits indicate; and his figure, while that of a strong man in good health and form and well nourished, is not stout and, though full, is firm; and his step has elasticity in it. His clean-shaven cheek and chin are massive, and drawn on fine lines full of character—no fatty obscuration, no decline of power; a stern but sunny and cloudless face—a good one for a place in history; no show of indulgence, no wrinkles; not the pallor of marble, rather the glint of bronze—the unabated force good for other chapters of history. It would be extremely interesting to report the talk of the Admiral; but there were two things about him that reminded me of James G. Blaine, something of the vivid personality of the loved and lost leader; something in his eye and his manner, more in the startling candor with which he spoke of things it would be premature to give the world, and, above all, the absence of all alarm about being reported—the unconscious consciousness that one must know this was private and no caution needed. A verbatim report of the Admiral would, however, harm no one, signify high-toned candor and a certain breezy simplicity in the treatment of momentous matters. Evidently here was a man not posing, a hero because his character was heroic, a genuine personage—not artificial, proclamatory, a picker of phrases, but a doer of deeds that explain themselves; a man with imagination, not fantastic but realistic, who must have had a vision during the night after the May-day battle of what might be the great hereafter; beholding under the southern constellations the gigantic shadow of America, crowned with stars, with the archipelagoes of Asia under her feet and broad and mighty destinies at command.

It was the next day that he anchored precisely where his famous ship was swinging when I sat beside him; and his words to the representative of three centuries of Spanish misrule had in them an uncontemplated flash from the flint and steel of fixed purpose and imperial force. "Fire another gun at my ships and I will destroy your city."

We can hardly realize in America how flagrant Europeanism has been in the Manila Bay; how the big German guns bought by Spain looked from their embrasures; how a powerful German fleet persisted in asserting antagonism to Americanism, and tested in many ways the American Admiral's knowledge of his rights and his country's policy until Admiral Dewey told, not the German Admiral, as has been reported, but his flag lieutenant, "Can it be possible that your nation means war with mine? If so, we can begin it in five minutes." The limit had been reached, and the line was drawn; and Dewey's words will go down in our records with those of Charles Francis Adams to Lord John Russell about the ironclads built in England for the Confederacy: "My Lord, I need not point out to your lordship that this is war."

Perhaps the German Admiral had exceeded the instructions of his Imperial Government, and the peremptory words of the American Admiral caused a better understanding, making for peace rather than for war.

Next to the Americans the English have taken a pride in Admiral Dewey, and they are in the Asiatic atmosphere our fast friends. They do not desire that we should give up the Philippines. On the contrary, they want us to keep the islands, and the more we become interested in those waters and along their shores, the better. They know that the world has practically grown smaller and, therefore, the British Empire more compact; and they find Russia their foe. They see that with the Pacific Coast our base of operations looking westward, we have first the Hawaiian Islands for producers and a coal station, naval arsenal, dockyards for the renovation and repair and replenishment of our fleets; and they see that we have reserved for ourselves one of the Ladrones, so that we will have an independent route to the Philippines. The Japanese have cultivated much feeling against our possession of Hawaii, the animus being that they wanted it for themselves; and likewise they are disturbed by our Pacific movement, anticipating the improvement of the most western of the Alutian Islands, an admirable station overlooking the North Pacific; all comprehending with Hawaii, the Alutian Island found most available, the Ladrone that we shall reserve and the Philippines, we shall have a Pacific quadrilateral; and this is not according to the present pleasure and the ambition for the coming days, of Japan. England would have approved our holding all the islands belonging to the Spanish, including the Canaries, and Majorca and Minorca and their neighboring isles in the Mediterranean, and take a pride in us. She has been of untold and inestimable service to us in the course of the Spanish War, and her ways have been good for us at Manila, while the Germans have been frankly against us, the Russians grimly reserved, and the French disposed to be fretful because they have invested in Spanish bonds upon which was raised the money to carry on the miserable false pretense of war with the Cubans. One day while I was on the fine transport Peru, in the harbor of Manila, the American Admiral's ship saluted an English ship-of-war coming in that had saluted his flag, and also displayed American colors in recognition that the harbor of Manila was an American port. That was the significance of the flashes and thundering of the Admiral's guns and the white cloud that gathered about his ship that has done enough for celebrity through centuries.

Admiral Dewey created the situation in the Philippines that the President wisely chose by way of the Paris Conference to receive the deliberate judgment of the Senate and people of the United States. Dewy has been unceasingly deeply concerned about it. His naval victory was but the beginning. He might have sailed away from Manila May 2d, having fulfilled his orders; but he had the high and keen American spirit in him, and clung. He needed a base of operations, a place upon which to rest and obtain supplies. He had not the marines to spare to garrison a fort save at Cavite, twelve miles from Manila; and he needed chickens, eggs, fresh meat and vegetables; and it was important that the Spanish Army should be occupied on shore. Hence, Aguinaldo, who was in Singapore, and the concentration of insurgents that had themselves to be restrained to make war on civilized lines. One of the points of the most considerable interest touching the Filipinos is that the smashing defeat of the fleet of Spain in Manila Bay heartened them. They have become strong for themselves. The superiority of the Americans over the Spaniards as fighting men is known throughout the islands Spain oppressed; and the bonds of the tyrants have been broken. It should not be out of mind that the first transports with our troops did not