Mr. Hay’s bete noire was the Senate.  Upon this, and this only, was he disregardful of the proprieties.  When it presumed to alter one word, substituting “treaty” for “agreement,” which occurred in one place only in the proposed Arbitration Treaty of 1905, he became unduly excited.  I believe this was owing in great degree to poor health, for it was clear by that time to intimate friends that his health was seriously impaired.

The last time I saw him was at lunch at his house, when the Arbitration Treaty, as amended by the Senate, was under the consideration of President Roosevelt.  The arbitrationists, headed by ex-Secretary of State Foster, urged the President’s acceptance of the amended treaty.  We thought he was favorable to this, but from my subsequent talk with Secretary Hay, I saw that the President’s agreeing would be keenly felt.  I should not be surprised if Roosevelt’s rejection of the treaty was resolved upon chiefly to soothe his dear friend John Hay in his illness.  I am sure I felt that I could be brought to do, only with the greatest difficulty, anything that would annoy that noble soul.  But upon this point Hay was obdurate; no surrender to the Senate.  Leaving his house I said to Mrs. Carnegie that I doubted if ever we should meet our friend again.  We never did.

The Carnegie Institution of Washington, of which Hay was the chairman and a trustee from the start, received his endorsement and close attention, and much were we indebted to him for wise counsel.  As a statesman he made his reputation in shorter time and with a surer touch than any one I know of.  And it may be doubted if any public man ever had more deeply attached friends.  One of his notes I have long kept.  It would have been the most flattering of any to my literary vanity but for my knowledge of his most lovable nature and undue warmth for his friends.  The world is poorer to me to-day as I write, since he has left it.

The Spanish War was the result of a wave of passion started by the reports of the horrors of the Cuban Revolution.  President McKinley tried hard to avoid it.  When the Spanish Minister left Washington, the French Ambassador became Spain’s agent, and peaceful negotiations were continued.  Spain offered autonomy for Cuba.  The President replied that he did not know exactly what “autonomy” meant.  What he wished for Cuba was the rights that Canada possessed.  He understood these.  A cable was shown to the President by the French Minister stating that Spain granted this and he, dear man, supposed all was settled.  So it was, apparently.

Speaker Reed usually came to see me Sunday mornings when in New York, and it was immediately after my return from Europe that year that he called and said he had never lost control of the House before.  For one moment he thought of leaving the chair and going on the floor to address the House and try to quiet it.  In vain it was explained that the President had received from Spain the guarantee of self-government for Cuba.  Alas! it was too late, too late!