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WE are here now: some day we shall go. And when we go we would like to go gracefully.
     Our last words should be words of consideration and forgiveness. [159][160] All the world admits that the man who preserves his poise and sanity to the last and goes Hence with only love upon his lips, is a most superior individual.
     The last days of William McKinley mark him as a Man. When the death-damp is upon a man’s forehead, and night and the grave are creeping into his veins, he does not pose. He is sincere then, even if he has never been before; the thoughts he utters leap from his heart—his words then, and his acts then, mirror his soul.
     When the President was shot his first words were of his wife—“Do not exaggerate this thing to Mrs. McKinley.”
     When he saw the officers struggling with the assassin he said, “Do not hurt him,—poor fellow! he did not know what he was doing.”
     His third thought was of the trouble he was making for the Exposition Company. “I am sorry to cause them all this annoyance.”
     During the days of his suffering he uttered no word of fear, censure or complaint. He was grateful for every attention and even at times relieved the gloom of the situation by flashes of humor. His last words were, “It is the will of God—I am satisfied! Goodbye all.”
     Socrates did no better. McKinley died like a Man.