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remain permanently and the cordial applause with which it was greeted.

But it was not to be his privilege to return and spend the remainder of his days among the scenes of his youth and in association with old time friends and neighbors. That yearning so natural to us all, when tasks and responsibilities are heavy and life's shadows fall from the west, was not to be gratified.

He journeyed to far away Alaska and on his return was stricken with illness in San Francisco. He seemed to be emerging from the attack and on the evening of August 2 was listening to the reading by his good wife of an appreciation of his administration in a well-known periodical. He evidently enjoyed this, for he said: “That's good. Go on. Read some more.”

Read some more." These were his last words and in the city of the Golden Gate, without a struggle or a sign of pain, he entered upon the Life Eternal.

No attempt will be made to describe the funeral obsequies of President Harding which extended from coast to coast and literally numbered mourners through the entire length of the Nation. One writer has truthfully said that when San Francisco både its last sad farewell “to all that was mortal of the greatly loved President, there began a funeral pilgrimage from sea to sea that has never been equalled in sustained solemnity in this or any other country.”

As the funeral train moved across the continent the people from city, village and farm came forth to pay by their silent presence as it passed their tribute to a chief executive who had come remarkably close to the hearts of all. At many places the crowds were so immense that the progress of the funeral train was impeded and by special direction of Mrs. Harding it moved with remarkable slowness that none of the mourners might be injured.

The train passed through his native state where the manifestations of grief were especially marked. On it moved to Washington, the capital that he had left a few weeks before in apparently good health and joyous anticipation of the great journey before him. Here occurred on August 8 the great official tribute to the President. There was an imposing military display with General Pershing, the great commander in the World War, at the head. The officials of the government, members of the cabinet, the new President, Calvin Coolidge, and former President Woodrow Wilson, were in the line of mourners. Military bands played sacred airs and requiems for the departed. The representatives of other nations added their tributes where the dead President lay in the rotunda of the National Capitol.

On August 9 the funeral train moved again into the native state of the departed chief; back to his home town of Marion where he had hoped to spend his last days in association with old friends after the close of his official career. Here on the day following his body was borne from the home of his father, Dr. George T. Harding, to its final rest. Cabinet officers and the new President were here to pay their final tribute of respect but all display by the special request of Mrs. Harding was omitted. The people came in great silent crowds from many sections of the state. Some one remarked that it was the old-time funeral, when acquaintances and neighbors came forth to manifest their sympathy, multiplied by at least one thousand. It was estimated that not less than 150,000 came to Marion to attend the funeral.

Floral tributes from civic organizations, municipalities and foreign governments came in great number and a profusion of fragrance and beauty. And before the sun went down the mortal remains of Warren G. Harding were borne to the tomb. At last he rested from his labors in a wilderness of flowers and the grateful memory of the citizens of the Republic to which he gave “the last full measure of devotion.”'


Among the fine tributes to President Harding that came from every section of our common country many from the Southland were especially noteworthy. They bear testimony to the sympathetic touch that, under his administration, was making the entire citizenship of the Republic more than ever before one and indivisible. From the many that have come to the attention of the writer the following which appears under mourning headlines in the Florida Times-Union of Jacksonville, August 3, is here reproduced:


Yesterday the country was rejoicing in the news that President Harding had passed the crisis of his illness and was on the road to complete recovery. Today it mourns his death. The pendulum swung back to the grave. The death of any president would be a shock, but the news that goes to the world this morning is the greater shock because it follows so quickly the report that Mr. Harding's fight for life was won.

Mr. Harding was chosen president by the largest majority that had ever been given to any candidate, but he was more than president and greater. God gave him a nature that is rarely

He was broad enough in his sympathies and in his understanding to touch all sections and all classes and be one with them.

He was of Northern birth, but loved the South as strongly as if he had been a native. He showed his love for Florida. He had spent more than twenty winters in this state and was so friendly and so approachable that Floridans, warmed by his genial nature, felt that he was one of them.

We doubt whether any president was ever as free from the cramping influence of local or hereditary prejudice. North, South, East and West were only directions with him. All was home and all America. His nature was too big for state or sectional lines. Nothing less than the whole country was big enough to hold his heart.

Here and there, but very rarely, can be found a man too broad for sectionalism but we would not know where to look among

the living for one who was too democratic to know class. The rich do not understand the poor nor the poor the rich. The high do not know the inner natures of the lowly nor the lowly understand the high. But here was a man who, standing on the pinnacle of the world, yet felt he was on a level with his fellow men.

The writer had the honor and the pleasure of a personal acquaintance with this great American. The pleasure was much greater than the honor. The honor came from knowing the president of the United States but it was not half as, satisfying as the pleasure of knowing Warren G. Harding. He seemed utterly unconscious of any difference in station. Some men would try to make this impression by excessive friendliness but they could not. A familiarity that was assumed would quickly be understood as patronizing. A friendliness must come from the heart that would make a private citizen forget the high office in the warmth of his feeling for the man. He was merely one man talking to another and he talked and listened most interestingly.

He was called to power at a most trying time when the war had created problems that were not of his making. His countrymen selected him to take the leading part in their settlement and the task would have taxed the powers of the wisest man that ever lived. He went about his work with an eye single to the faithful discharge of the trust reposed in him. He did well; how completely he would have succeeded can never be known. He has been released from his labors and has gone to his reward. History will give him a place among the greatest and the best of America and of the world.



As announced in the last isue of the QUARTERLY, Honorable Daniel J. Ryan, long an active life member of this Society and the oldest in term of service on the Board of Trustees, passed from our midst in the early morning of June 15, 1923.

It thus becomes our sad duty for the third time within a little more than three years to record the death of one of our fellow members who from almost the beginning of our Society was prominently identified in its work and active in its upbuilding from a very modest origin to its present estate of more adequate support and equipment, of extending influence and encouraging outlook for the future.

On December 18, 1919, Honorable Emilius O. Randall, with a service of twenty-five years as secretary of the Society, whose name had become almost synonymous with the Society itself and whose fame as a state historian will survive through all the years to come, was called to his rest.

April 20, 1921, marked the passing of Doctor George Frederick Wright, eminent scholar, archæologist, scientist and author, whose term of service as president of the Society was an era of progress in its history and signalized by the fortunate erection of the building it now occupies on the grounds of the Ohio State University. And now our friend and co-worker, Honorable

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