Mr. Bryan takes great pride in his household, and he bends every energy to the end that the bonds of mutual confidence and love, the elements so essential in a perfect home, may be strengthened and cemented. Every hour that he can give to them he gladly spares. For four years he has had no other office, no other working place, than in this home. After the campaign of 1896 he gave up, to all intents and purposes, his down town office, and has spent his time at home. His office is now in his library, an inviting room opening off the parlor on one side, and the sitting room on the other. His work is performed on a big flat-topped desk that occupies a goodly share of the floor space. Here he is surrounded by book-cases and statuettes, by curious mementoes, ink stands, canes, a hundred and one articles that admirers in all sections and climes of the country have sent him. Most of these have been gathered together in a glass-covered compartment that separates the two big book-cases. Mr. Bryan finds that his best work is done with his wife as his counselor and guide. She has a place on one side of the big desk, he on the other. She is no less indefatigable as a worker than he. She finds time between her consultations with him, when an important work is on hand, to care for her household, and to direct the work of the one domestic employed. Mrs. Bryan’s thorough understanding and appreciation of every detail of his labors make her companionship and aid almost indispensable. Together they have gone over the details of his campaigns in the past years, and with him she still plans for the future. What he writes, she either passes upon or assists in its production. Her self-poise, marred by no self-consciousness, but marked by a quiet dignity, is one of her remarkable possessions. Perhaps the best delineation of the characteristics of this woman, remarkable in many ways, is furnished by the eminent novelist, Julian Hawthorne, who spent some time at the Bryan home during the past summer. Of her he said, “Mrs. Bryan is as unusual a woman as her husband is a man, but she is so unobtrusive that few people have much idea of her true character. I had the opportunity to learn something of her during the campaign of ‘96, and I well recollect her admirable bearing at the great meeting in Madison Square Garden, when she was recognized and greeted on entering her box by more than ten thousand people. It was a tremendous ordeal for a woman to undergo. But she sustained herself with steadiness and self-possession, remarkable in any woman, but more than remarkable in her, who had always lived in quiet domestic ways, occupied with her husband, her children, and her household duties. She is a woman of great courage and unshakable faith, of exceptional intellect, also, nourished with adequate education. She possesses the coolness of judgment which must often have served him well in times of doubt. She is not led away