In joining the volunteer army, as when he delivered the first anti-imperialist speech, Colonel Bryan had acted against the advice of many of his closest personal and political friends. Despite his decisive defeat for the presidency in 1896, he had not only maintained but even strengthened his position as the recognized leader of the Democratic party and its allies. Undaunted by the result of the campaign, he had almost immediately resumed the fight for bimetallism. He had published a book reviewing the contest under the suggestive and defiant title “The First Battle.” He had taken to the lecture platform and to the political hustings, vigorously, hopefully, and earnestly propagating the principles of democracy, unwavering, unwearying, and undisturbed by the general depression of his followers and as general exultation of his opponents. He was the incarnation of the spirit of conservative reform, and all parties had come to regard him as the prophet and supreme leader of the new movement back to Jeffersonian principles. His friends feared to have him accept a commission, not only on the ground that his doing so might later compel his silence at a time when his voice ought to be heard, but more largely because they dreaded the possibility of having his motive impugned. It was evident to them, as to Colonel Bryan himself, that by taking up the role of colonel of a volunteer regiment, he had much to risk and lose, and little, if anything, to gain. But the Democratic leader was not to be dissuaded. Content in his own knowledge that his motive was worthy and patriotic, he assumed and bore unostentatiously and yet with dignity the office of military leader of 1,300 of his Nebraska friends and neighbors. He remained faithfully with his regiment, living the slow and tedious life of the camp, until the treaty of peace was signed with Spain in December, 1898. That treaty provided not only for the cession of Porto Rico to the United States and Spanish relinquishment of all claim to sovereignty over Cuba, but further for the turning over of the Philippine Islands to the United States on the payment of $20,000,000. This last concession was wrung from Spain by the insistent and uncompromising demand of the American Peace Commissioners, under instructions from the state department at Washington. Shortly after the treaty was signed, President McKinley blasted the fond hopes for independence that had been planted in the Filipinos’ breasts by issuing this proclamation: