. . . .. dfcem t>ouses of Congress CBecrge Bancroft 5amcs (5. Blaine Jobn "toas . : IN MEMOEIAM ALEXANDER GOLDSTEIN c ABRAHAM LINCOLN JAMES A. GARF1ELD WILLIAM McKINLEY MEMORIAL ADDRESSES DELIVERED BEFORE THE TWO HOUSES OF CONGRESS ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN JAMES A. GARFIELD WILLIAM McKINLEY PREPARED IN ACCORDANCE WITH CONCURRENT RESOLUTION OF CONGRESS, AND UNDER DIRECTION OF JOINT COMMITTEE ON PRINTING BY CHARLES ROWLEY CUSHMAN Clerk of Committee on Printing, House of Representatives WASHINGTON GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE 1903 <<; [Concurrent resolution to print the memorial addresses on the life and character of Abraham Lincoln, James A. Garfield, and William McKinley.] Resolved by the Senate {the House of Representatives concurring), That there be printed and bound in one volume, in cloth, fifteen thou sand copies of the three separate memorial addresses delivered before the two Houses of Congress, as follows: On February twelfth, eighteen hundred and sixty-six, by Hon. George Bancroft, on the life and char acter of Abraham Lincoln, late President of the United States; on February twenty-seventh, eighteen hundred and eighty-two, by Hon. James G. Elaine, on the life and character of James A. Garfield, late President of the United States; on February twenty-seventh, nineteen hundred and two, by Hon. John Hay, on the life and character of William McKinley, late President of the United States, ten thousand copies of which shall be for the use of the House of Representatives and five thousand copies for the use of the Senate. The Joint Committee on Printing are hereby authorized to have the copy prepared for the Public Printer, who shall procure suitable portrait etchings to be bound in with these memorials, and shall use such paper and bindings as will make the volumes worthy of a place in the libraries of the land. Passed June 26, 1902. MEMORIAL ADDRESS ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN BY HON. GEORGE BANCROFT j* DELIVERED BEFORE THE TWO HOUSES OH CONGRESS, FEBRUARY u, 1866 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. SENATORS, REPRESENTATIVES OF AMERICA: That God rules in the affairs of men is as certain as any truth of physical science. On the great moving Power which is from the beginning hangs the world of the senses and the world of thought and action. Eternal wisdom marshals the great procession of the nations, working in patient continuity through the ages, never halting and never abrupt, encompassing all events in its oversight, and ever effecting its will, though mortals may slumber in apathy or oppose with madness. Kings are lifted up or thrown down, nations come and go, republics flourish and wither, dynasties pass away like a tale that is told; 8 but nothing is by chance, though men, in their ignorance of causes, may think so. The deeds of time are governed, as well as judged, by : the decrees of eternity. The caprice of fleeting existences bends to the immovable Omnipo tence, which plants its foot on all the centuries and has neither change of purpose nor repose. Sometimes, like a messenger through the thick darkness of night, it steps along mysterious ways; but when the hour strikes for a people, or for mankind, to pass into a new form of being, unseen hands draw the bolts from the gates of futurity; an all-subduing influence prepares the minds of men for the coming revolution; those who plan resistance find themselves in conflict with the will of Provi dence rather than with human devices; and all hearts and all understandings, most of all the opinions and influences of the unwilling, are wonderfully attracted and compelled to bear forward the change, which becomes more 9 an obedience to the law of universal nature than submission to the arbitrament of man. In the fullness of time a Republic rose up in the wilderness of America. Thousands of years had passed away before this child of the ages could be born. From whatever there was of good in the systems of former centu ries she drew her nourishment; the wrecks of the past were her warnings. With the deepest sentiment of faith fixed in her inmost nature, she disenthralled religion from bondage to temporal power, that her worship might be worship only in spirit and in truth. The wisdom which had passed from India through Greece, with what Greece had added of her own; the jurisprudence of Rome; the mediae val municipalities; the Teutonic method of representation; the political experience of England; the benignant wisdom of the expos itors of the law of nature and of nations in France and Holland, all shed on her their IO selectest influence. She washed the gold of political wisdom from the sands wherever it was found; she cleft it from the rocks; she gleaned it among ruins. Out of all the dis coveries of statesmen and sages, out of all the experience of past human life, she compiled a perennial political philosophy, the primordial principles of national ethics. The wise men of Europe sought the best government in a mix ture of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy; America went behind these names to extract from them the vital elements of social forms, and blend them harmoniously in the free commonwealth, which comes nearest to the illustration of the natural equality of all men. She intrusted the guardianship of established rights to law, the movements of reform to the spirit of the people, and drew her force from the happy reconciliation of both. Republics had heretofore been limited to small cantons, or cities and their dependen- II cies; America, doing that of which the like had not before been known upon the earth, or believed by kings and statesmen to be pos sible, extended her Republic across a conti nent. Under her auspices the vine of liberty took deep root and filled the land; the hills were covered with its shadow; its boughs were like the goodly cedars, and reached unto both oceans. The fame of this only daughter of freedom went out into all the lands of the earth; from her the human race drew hope. Neither hereditary monarchy nor hereditary aristocracy planted itself on our soil; the only hereditary condition that fastened itself upon us was servitude. Nature works in sincerity, and is ever true to its law. The bee hives honey; the viper distills poison; the vine stores its juices, and so do the poppy and the upas. In like manner, every thought and every action ripens its seed, each according to its kind. In the individual man, and still more in a nation, 12 a just idea gives life, and progress, and glory; a false conception portends disaster, shame, and death. A hundred and twenty years ago a West Jersey Quaker wrote: "This trade of importing slaves is dark gloominess hanging over the land; the consequences will be grievous to posterity." At the North the growth of slavery was arrested by natural causes; in the region nearest the Tropics it throve rankly, and worked itself into the organism of the rising States. Virginia stood between the two, with soil and climate and resources demanding free labor, yet capable of the profitable employment of the slave. She was the land of great statesmen, and they saw the danger of her being whelmed under the rising flood in time to struggle against the delusions of avarice and pride. Ninety-four years ago the legislature of Virginia addressed the British King, saying that the trade in slaves was "of great inhumanity," was opposed to 13 the "security and happiness" of their constit uents, "would in time have the most destruc tive influence," and "endanger their very existence." And the King answered them that, "upon pain of his highest displeasure, the importation of slaves should not be in any respect obstructed." "Pharisaical Britain," wrote Franklin in behalf of Virginia, "to pride thyself in setting free a single slave that hap pened to land on thy coasts, while thy laws continue a traffic whereby so many hundreds of thousands are dragged into a slavery that is entailed on their posterity." "A serious view of this subject," said Patrick Henry in 1773, "gives a gloomy prospect to future times." In the same year George Mason wrote to the legislature of Virginia: "The laws of impartial Providence may avenge our injustice upon our posterity." Conforming his conduct to his convictions, Jefferson, in Virginia, and in the Continental Congress, 14 with the approval of Edmund Pendleton, branded the slave trade as piracy; and he fixed in the Declaration of Independence, as the corner stone of America: "All men are created equal, with an unalienable right to liberty." On the first organization of tempo rary governments for the continental domain, Jefferson, but for the default of New Jersey, would, in 1784, have consecrated every part of that territory to freedom. In the formation of the national Constitution Virginia, opposed by a part of New England, vainly struggled to abolish the slave trade at once and forever; and when the ordinance of 1787 was intro duced by Nathan Dane without the clause prohibiting slavery, it was through the favor able disposition of Virginia and the South that the clause of Jefferson was restored, and the whole Northwestern territory all the terri tory that then belonged to the Nation was reserved for the labor of freemen. 15 The hope prevailed in Virginia that the abolition of the slave trade would bring with it the gradual abolition of slavery; but the ex pectation was doomed to disappointment. In supporting incipient measures for emancipa tion, Jefferson encountered difficulties greater than he could overcome; and after vain wres tlings, the words that broke from him, "I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just, that His justice can not sleep forever," were words of despair. It was the desire of Washington s heart that Virginia should remove slavery by a public act; and as the prospects of a general emancipation grew more and more dim, he, in utter hope lessness of the action of the State, did all that he could by bequeathing freedom to his own slaves. Good and true men had, from the days of 1776, suggested the colonizing of the negro in the home of his ancestors; but the idea of colonization was thought to increase i6 the difficulty of emancipation, and, in spite of strong support, while it accomplished much good for Africa, it proved impracticable as a remedy at home. Madison, who in early life disliked slavery so much that he wished "to depend as little as possible on the labor of slaves;" Madison, who held that where slav ery exists "the republican theory becomes fal lacious;" Madison, who in the last years of his life would not consent to the annexation of Texas, lest his countrymen should fill it with slaves; Madison, who said: "Slavery is the greatest evil under which the Nation labors a portentous evil an evil moral, political, and economical a sad blot on our free coun try" went mournfully into old age with the cheerless words: "No satisfactory plan has yet been devised for taking out the stain." The men of the Revolution passed away. A new generation sprang up, impatient that an institution to which they clung should be condemned as inhuman, unwise, and unjust. In the throes of discontent at the self-reproach of their fathers, and blinded by the luster of wealth to be acquired by the culture of a new staple, they devised the theory that slavery, which they would not abolish, was not evil, but good. They turned on the friends of col onization, and confidently demanded: "Why take black men from a civilized and Christian country, where their labor is a source of immense gain, and a power to control the markets of the world, and send them to a land of ignorance, idolatry, and indolence, which was the home of their forefathers, but not theirs? Slavery is a blessing. Were they not in their ancestral land naked, scarcely lifted above brutes, ignorant of the course of the sun, controlled by nature ? And in their new abode have they not been taught to know the difference of the seasons, to plow and plant and reap, to drive oxen, to tame the 3 i8 horse, to exchange their scanty dialect for the richest of all the languages among men, and the stupid adoration of follies for the purest religion? And since slavery is good for the blacks, it is good for their masters, bringing opulence and the opportunity of educating a race. The slavery of the black is good in itself; he shall serve the white man forever." And nature, which better understood the qual ity of fleeting interest and passion, laughed as it caught the echo, "man" and "forever!" A regular development of pretensions fol lowed the new declaration with logical con sistency. Under the old declaration every one of the States had retained, each for itself, the . right of manumitting all slaves by an ordinary act of legislation; now the power of the people over servitude through their legis latures was curtailed, and the privileged class was swift in imposing legal and constitutional obstructions on the people themselves. The 19 power of emancipation was narrowed or taken away. The slave might not be disquieted by education. There remained an unconfessed consciousness that the system of bondage was wrong, and a restless memory that it was at variance with the true American tradition; its safety was therefore to be secured by political organization. The generation that made the Constitution took care for the predominance of freedom in Congress by the ordinance of Jefferson; the new school aspired to secure for slavery an equality of votes in the Senate, and, while it hinted at an organic act that should concede to the collective South a veto power on national legislation, it assumed that each State separately had the right to revise and nullify laws of the United States, according to the discretion of its judgment. The new theory hung as a bias on the foreign relations of the country; there could be no recognition of Haiti, nor even of the 20 American colony of Liberia; and the world was given to understand that the establish ment of free labor in Cuba would be a reason for wresting that island from Spain. Territo ries were annexed Louisiana, Florida, Texas, half of Mexico; slavery must have its share in them all, and it accepted for a time a dividing line between the unquestioned domain of free labor and that in which involuntary labor was to be tolerated. A few years passed away, and the new school, strong and arrogant, demanded and received an apology for apply ing the Jefferson proviso to Oregon. The application of that proviso was inter rupted for three Administrations, but justice moved steadily onward. In the news that the men of California had chosen freedom, Calhoun heard the knell of parting slavery, and on his deathbed he counseled secession. Washington and Jefferson and Madison had died despairing of the abolition of slavery; 21 Calhoun died in despair at the growth of free dom. His system rushed irresistibly to its natural development. The death struggle for California was followed by a short truce; but the new school of politicians, who said that slavery was not evil, but good, soon sought to recover the ground they had lost, and, confident of securing Kansas, they demanded that the established line in the Territories be tween freedom and slavery should be blotted out. The country, believing in the strength and enterprise and expansive energy of free dom, made answer, though reluctantly: "Be it so; let there be no strife between brethren; let freedom and slavery compete for the Ter ritories on equal terms, in a fair field, under an impartial administration;" and on this theory, if on any, the contest might have been left to the decision of time. The South started back in appallment from its victory, for it knew that a fair competition 22 foreboded its defeat. But where could it now find an ally to save it from its own mistake? What I have next to say is spoken with no emotion but regret. Our meeting to-day is, as it were, at the grave, in the presence of eternity, and the truth must be uttered in soberness and sincerity. In a great republic, as was observed more than two thousand years ago, any attempt to overturn the state owes its strength to aid from some branch of the government. The Chief Justice of the United States, without any necessity or occa sion, volunteered to come to the rescue of the theory of slavery; and from his court there lay no appeal but to the bar of humanity and history. Against the Constitution, against the memory of the Nation, against a previous decision, against a series of enactments, he decided that the slave is property; that slave property is entitled to no less protection than any other property; that the Constitution 23 upholds it in every Territory against any act of a local legislature, and even against Con gress itself; or, as the President for that term tersely promulgated the saying, "Kansas is as much a slave State as South Carolina or Georgia; slavery, by virtue of the Constitu tion, exists in every Territory." The municipal character of slavery being thus taken away, and slave property decreed to be "sacred," the authority of the courts was invoked to intro duce it by the comity of law into States where slavery had been abolished, and in one of the courts of the United States a judge pro nounced the African slave trade legitimate, and numerous and powerful advocates demanded its restoration. Moreover, the Chief Justice, in his elabo rate opinion, announced what had never been heard from any magistrate of Greece or Rome; what was unknown to civil law, and canon law, and feudal law, and common 24 law, and constitutional law; unknown to Jay, to Rutledge, Ellsworth, and Marshall that there are "slave races." The spirit of evil is intensely logical. Having the authority of this decision, five States swiftly followed the earlier example of a sixth, and opened the way for reducing the free negro to bondage; the migrating free negro became a slave if he but entered within the jurisdiction of a sev enth; and an eighth, from its extent and soil and mineral resources destined to incalculable greatness, closed its eyes on its coming pros perity, and enacted, as by Taney s dictum it had the right to do, that every free black man who would live within its limits must accept the condition of slavery for himself and his posterity. Only one step more remained to be taken. Jefferson and the leading statesmen of his day held fast to the idea that the enslavement of the African was socially, morally, and politi- 25 cally wrong. The new school was founded exactly upon the opposite idea; and they resolved, first, to distract the Democratic party, for which the Supreme Court had now furnished the means, and then to establish a new government, with negro slavery for its corner stone, as socially, morally, and politi cally right. As the Presidential election drew on, one of the great traditional parties did not make its appearance; the other reeled as it sought to preserve its old position, and the candidate who most nearly represented its best opinion, driven by patriotic zeal, roamed the country from end to end to speak for union, eager, at least, to confront its enemies, yet not having hope that it would find its deliverance through him. The storm rose to a whirlwind; who should allay its wrath? The most experi enced statesmen of the country had failed; there was no hope from those who were great 26 after the flesh: could relief come from one whose wisdom was like the wisdom of little children ? The choice of America fell on a man born west of the Alleghanies, in the cabin of poor people of Hardin County, Kentucky ABRAHAM LINCOLN. His mother could read but not write; his father could do neither; but his parents sent him, with an old spelling book, to school, and he learned in his childhood to do both. When eight years old he floated down the Ohio with his father on a raft, which bore the family and all their possessions to the shore of Indiana; and, child as he was, he gave help as they toiled through dense forests to the interior of Spencer County. There, in the land of free labor, he grew up in a log cabin, with the solemn solitude for his teacher in his meditative hours. Of Asiatic literature he knew only the Bible; of Greek, Latin, and 27 mediaeval, no more than the translation of /Esop s Fables; of English, John Bunyan s Pilgrim s Progress. The traditions of George Fox and William Penn passed to him dimly along the lines of two centuries through his ancestors, who were Quakers. Otherwise his education was altogether American. The Declaration of Independence was his compendium of political wisdom, the Life of Washington his constant study, and something of Jefferson and Madison reached him through Henry Clay, whom he honored from boyhood. For the rest, from day to day, he lived the life of the American people, walked in its light, reasoned with its reason, thought with its power of thought, felt the beatings of its mighty heart, and so was in every way a child of nature, a child of the West, a child of America. At nineteen, feeling impulses of ambition to get on in the world, he engaged himself to 28 go down the Mississippi in a flatboat, receiv ing ten dollars a month for his wages, and afterwards he made the trip once more. At twenty-one he drove his father s cattle, as the family migrated to Illinois, and split rails to fence in the new homestead in the wild. At twenty-three he was a captain of volunteers in the Black Hawk war. He kept a store; he learned something of surveying; but of Eng lish literature he added to Bunyan nothing but Shakespeare s plays. At twenty-five he was elected to the legislature of Illinois, where he served eight years. At twenty-seven he was admitted to the bar. In 1837 ne chose his home at Springfield, the beautiful center of the richest land in the State. In 1847 ne was a member of the national Congress, where he voted about forty times in favor of the principle of the Jefferson proviso. In 1849 ne sought, eagerly but unsuccessfully, the place of Commissioner of the Land Office, and 2 9 he refused an appointment that would have transferred his residence to Oregon. In 1854 he gave his influence to elect from Illinois to the American Senate a Democrat who would certainly do justice to Kansas. In 1858, as the rival of Douglas, he went before the peo ple of the mighty Prairie State, saying: "This Union can not permanently endure half slave and half free; the Union will not be dissolved, but the house will cease to be divided;" and now, in 1861, with no experience whatever as an executive officer, while States were madly flying from their orbit, and wise men knew not where to find counsel, this descendant of Quakers, this pupil of Bunyan, this offspring of the great West, was elected President of America. He measured the difficulty of the duty that devolved upon him, and was resolved to fulfill it. As on the eleventh of February, 1861, he left Springfield, which for a quarter of a century 30 had been his happy home, to the crowd of his friends and neighbors, whom he was never more to meet, he spoke a solemn farewell: "I know not how soon I shall see you again. A duty has devolved upon me, greater than that which has devolved upon any other man since Washington. He never would have succeeded except for the aid of Divine Provi dence, upon which he at all times relied. On the same Almighty Being I place my reliance. Pray that I may receive that Divine assistance, without which I can not succeed, but with which success is certain." To the men of Indiana he said: "I am but an accidental, temporary instrument; it is your business to rise up and preserve the Union and liberty." At the capital of Ohio he said: "Without a name, without a reason why I should have a name, there has fallen upon me a task such as did not rest even upon the Father of his Country." At various places in New York, especially at Albany, before the legislature, which tendered him the united support of the great Empire State, he said: "While I hold myself the humblest of all the individuals who have ever been elevated to the Presidency, I have a more difficult task to perform than any of them. I bring a true heart to the work. I must rely upon the people of the whole country for support; and with their sustaining aid, even I, humble as I am, can not fail to carry the ship of state safely through the storm." To the assembly of New Jersey, at Trenton, he explained: "I shall take the ground I deem most just to the North, the East, the West, the South, and the whole country, in good temper, certainly with no malice to any section. I am devoted to peace, but it may be necessary to put the foot down firmly." In the old Independence Hall of Philadelphia he said: "I have never had a feeling politically that did not spring from the 32 sentiments embodied in the Declaration of Independence, which gave liberty, not alone to the people of this country, but to the world in all future time. If the country can not be saved without giving up that principle, I would rather be assassinated on the spot than sur render it. I have said nothing but what I am willing to live and die by." Traveling in the dead of night to escape assassination, LINCOLN arrived at Washing ton nine days before his inauguration. The outgoing President, at the opening of the session of Congress, had still kept as the majority of his advisers men engaged in treason; had declared that in case of even an "imaginary" apprehension of danger from notions of freedom among the slaves, "dis union would become inevitable." LINCOLN and others had questioned the opinion of Taney; such impugning he ascribed to the "factious temper of the times." The favorite 33 doctrine of the majority of the Democratic party on the power of a Territorial legislature over slavery he condemned as an attack on "the sacred rights of property." The State legislatures, he insisted, must repeal what he called "their unconstitutional and obnoxious enactments," and which, if such, were "null and void," or "it would be impossible for any human power to save the Union." Nay, if these unimportant acts were not repealed, "the injured States would be justified in rev olutionary resistance to the Government of the Union." He maintained that no State might secede at its sovereign will and pleasure; that the Union was meant for perpetuity, and that Congress might attempt to preserve it, but only by conciliation; that "the sword was not placed in their hands to preserve it by force;" that "the last desperate remedy of a despair ing people" would be "an explanatory amend ment recognizing the decision of the Supreme 34 Court of the United States." The American Union he called "a confederacy" of States, and he thought it a duty to make the appeal for the amendment "before any of these States should separate themselves from the Union." The views of the lieutenant-gen eral, containing some patriotic advice, "con ceded the right of secession," pronounced a quadruple rupture of the Union "a smaller evil than the reuniting of the fragments by the sword," and "eschewed the idea of invad ing a seceded State." After changes in the Cabinet, the President informed Congress that "matters were still worse;" that "the South suffered serious grievances," which should be redressed "in peace." The day after this message the flag of the Union was fired upon from Fort Morris, and the insult was not revenged or noticed. Senators in Congress telegraphed to their constituents to seize the national forts, and they were not arrested. 35 The finances of the country were grievously embarrassed. Its little Army was not within reach; the part of it in Texas, with all its stores, was made over by its commander to rebels. One State after another voted in convention to secede. A peace congress, so called, met at the request of Virginia to con cert the terms of a capitulation which should secure permission for the continuance of the Union. Congress, in both branches, sought to devise conciliatory expedients; the Terri tories of the country were organized in a manner not to conflict with any pretensions of the South, or any decision of the Supreme Court; and, nevertheless, the representatives of the rebellion formed at Montgomery a provisional government, and pursued their relentless purpose with such success that the lieutenant-general feared the city of Wash ington might find itself "included in a for eign country," and proposed, among the 36 options for the consideration of LINCOLN, to bid the wayward States "depart in peace." The great Republic appeared to have its emblem in the vast unfinished Capitol, at that moment surrounded by masses of stone and prostrate columns never yet lifted into their places, seemingly the monument of high but delusive aspirations, the confused wreck of inchoate magnificence, sadder than any ruin of Egyptian Thebes or Athens. The fourth of March came. With instinc tive wisdom the new President, speaking to the people on taking the oath of office, put aside every question that divided the country, and gained a right to universal support by planting himself on the single idea of union. The Union he declared to be unbroken and perpetual; and he announced his determina tion to fulfill "the simple duty of taking care that the laws be faithfully executed in all the States." Seven days later the convention of 37 Confederate States unanimously adopted a constitution of their own; and the new gov ernment was authoritatively announced to be founded on the idea that the negro race is a slave race; that slavery is its natural and nor mal condition. The issue was made up, whether the great Republic was to maintain its providential place in the history of man kind, or a rebellion founded on negro slavery gain a recognition of its principle throughout the civilized world. To the disaffected LIN COLN had said: "You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors." To fire the passions of the Southern portion of the people, the Confederate government chose to become aggressors, and, on the morning of the twelfth of April, began the bombardment of Fort Sumter, and compelled its evacuation. It is the glory of the late President that he had perfect faith in the perpetuity of the 38 Union. Supported in advance by Douglas, who spoke as with the voice of a million, he instantly called a meeting of Congress, and summoned the people to come up and repos sess the forts, places, and property which had been seized from the Union. The men of the North were trained in schools; indus trious and frugal; many of them delicately bred; their minds teeming with ideas and fertile in plans of enterprise; given to the culture of the arts; eager in the pursuit of wealth, yet employing wealth less for osten tation than for developing the resources of their country; seeking happiness in the calm of domestic life, and such lovers of peace that for generations they had been reputed unwarlike. Now, at the cry of their country in its distress, they rose up with unappeasable patriotism; not hirelings the purest and of the best blood in the land. Sons of a pious ancestry, with a clear perception of duty, 39 unclouded faith, and fixed resolve to succeed, they thronged around the President to support the wronged, the beautiful flag of the Nation. The halls of theological seminaries sent forth their young men, whose lips were touched with eloquence, whose hearts kindled with de votion, to serve in the ranks, and make their way to command only as they learned the art of war. Striplings in the colleges, as well the most gentle and the most studious, those of sweetest temper and loveliest character and brightest genius, passed from their classes to the camp. The lumbermen from the forests, the mechanics from their benches, where they had been trained by the exercise of political rights to share the life and hope of the Repub lic, to feel their responsibility to their fore fathers, their posterity, and mankind, went to the front resolved that, their dignity as a con stituent part of this Republic should not be impaired. Farmers and sons of farmers left 40 the land but half plowed, the grain but half planted, and, taking up the musket, learned to face without fear the presence of peril and the coming of death in the shocks of war, while their hearts were still attracted to their herds and fields and all the tender affections of home. Whatever there was of truth and faith and public love in the common heart broke out with one expression. The mighty winds blew from every quarter to fan the flame of the sacred and unquenchable fire. For a time the war was thought to be con fined to our own domestic affairs, but it was soon seen that it involved the destinies of mankind; its principles and causes shook the politics of Europe to the center, and from Lisbon to Pekin divided the governments of the world. There was a Kingdom whose people had in an eminent degree attained to freedom of industry and the security of person and property. Its middle class rose to greatness. Out of that class sprung the noblest poets and philosophers, whose words built up the intel lect of its people; skillful navigators, to find out for its merchants the many paths of the oceans; discoverers in natural science, whose inventions guided its industry to wealth, till it equaled any nation of the world in letters, and excelled all in trade and commerce. But its Government was become a government of land, and not of men; every blade of grass was represented, but only a small minority of the people. In the transition from the feudal forms, the heads of the social organization freed themselves from the military services which were the conditions of their tenure, and, throwing the burden on the industrial classes, kept all the soil to themselves. Vast estates that had been managed by monasteries as endowments for religion and charity were impropriated to swell the wealth of courtiers 42 and favorites; and the commons where the poor man once had his right of pasture were taken away, and, under forms of law, inclosed distributively within the domains of the adjacent landholders. Although no law for bade any inhabitant from purchasing land, the costliness of the transfer constituted a prohibi tion; so that it was the rule of the country that the plow should not be in the hands of its owner. The church was rested on a con tradiction; claiming to be an embodiment of absolute truth, it was a creature of the statute book. The progress of time increased the terrible contrast between wealth and poverty. In their years of strength the laboring people, cut off from all share in governing the state, derived a scant support from the severest toil and had no hope for old age but in public charity or death. A grasping ambition had dotted the world, with military posts, kept watch over 43 our borders on the Northeast, at the Bermu das, in the West Indies; appropriated the gates of the Pacific, of the Southern, and of the Indian Ocean; hovered on our Northwest at Vancouver, held the whole of the newest continent and the entrances to the old Medi terranean and Red Sea, and garrisoned forts all the way from Madras to China. That aristocracy had gazed with terror on the growth of a commonwealth where freeholders existed by the million and religion was not in bondage to the state; and now they could not repress their joy at its perils. They had not one word of sympathy for the kind-hearted poor man s son whom America had chosen for her chief; they jeered at his large hands and long feet and ungainly stature; and the British secretary of state for foreign affairs made haste to send word through the palaces of Europe that the great Republic was in its agony; that the Republic was no more; that a 44 headstone was all that remained due by the law of nations to "the late Union." But it is written: "Let the dead bury their dead;" they may not bury the living. Let the dead bury their dead; let a bill of reform remove the worn-out government of a class, and in fuse new life into the British constitution by confiding rightful power to the people. But while the vitality of America is inde structible, the British Government hurried to do what never before had been done by Christian powers; what was in direct con flict with its own exposition of public law in the time of our struggle for independence. Though the insurgent States had not a ship in an open harbor, it invested them with all the rights of a belligerent, even on the ocean; and this, too, when the rebellion was not only directed against the gentlest and most beneficent Government on earth, without a shadow of justifiable cause, but when the 45 rebellion was directed against human nature itself for the perpetual enslavement of a race. And the effect of this recognition was that acts in themselves piratical found shelter in British courts of law. The resources of Brit ish capitalists, their workshops, their armo ries, their private arsenals, their shipyards, were in league with the insurgents, and every British harbor in the wide world be came a safe port for British ships, manned by British sailors, and armed with British guns, to prey on our peaceful commerce; even on our ships coming from British ports, freighted with British products, or that had carried gifts of grain to the English poor. The prime minister, in the House of Com mons, sustained by cheers, scoffed at the thought that their laws could be amended at our request so as to preserve real neutral ity; and to remonstrances now owned to have been just their secretary of state answered 46 that they could not change their laws ad infinitum. The people of America then wished, as they always have wished, as they still wish, friendly relations with England; and no man in England or America can desire it more strongly than I. This country has always yearned for good relations with England. Thrice only in all its history has that yearn ing been fairly met: in the days of Hampden and Cromwell, again in the first ministry of the elder Pitt, and once again in the ministry of Shelburne. Not that there have not at all times been just men among the peers of Britain like Halifax in the days of James the Second, or a Granville, an Argyll, or a Houghton in ours; and we can not be indif ferent to a country that produces statesmen like Cobden and Bright; but the best bower anchor of peace was the working class of England, who suffered most from our civil 47 war, but who, while they broke their dimin ished bread in sorrow, always encouraged us to persevere. The act of recognizing the rebel bellig erents was concerted with France France, so beloved in America, on which she had conferred the greatest benefits that one peo ple ever conferred on another; France, which stands foremost on the continent of Europe for the solidity of her culture, as well as for the bravery and generous impulses of her sons; France, which for centuries had been moving steadily in her own way toward intellectual and political freedom. The policy regarding further colonization of America by European powers, known commonly as the doctrine of Monroe, had its origin in France; and, if it takes any man s name, should bear the name of Turgot. It was adopted by Louis the Sixteenth, in the cabinet of which Vergennes was the most important member. 4 8 It is emphatically the policy of France, to which, with transient deviations, the Bour bons, the first Napoleon, the house of Orleans have adhered. The late President was perpetually har assed by rumors that the Emperor Napoleon the Third desired formally to recognize the States in rebellion as an independent Power, and that England held him back by her reluc tance, or France by her traditions of freedom, or he himself by his own better judgment and clear perception of events. But the Republic of Mexico, on our borders, was, like our selves, distracted by a rebellion, and from a similar cause. The monarchy of England had fastened upon us slavery which did not dis appear with independence; in like manner, the ecclesiastical policy established by the Spanish Council of the Indies, in the days of Charles the Fifth and Philip the Second, retained its vigor in the Mexican Republic. 49 The fifty years of civil war under which she had languished was due to the bigoted sys tem which was the legacy of monarchy, just as here the inheritance of slavery kept alive political strife, and culminated in civil war. As with us there could be no quiet but through the end of slavery, so in Mexico there could be no prosperity until the crush ing tyranny of intolerance should cease. The party of slavery in the United States sent their emissaries to Europe to solicit aid; and so did the party of the church in Mexico, as organized by the old Spanish Council of the Indies, but with a different result. Just as the Republican party had made an end of the rebellion, and was establishing the best government ever known in that region, and giving promise to the Nation of order, peace, and prosperity, word was brought us, in the moment of our deepest affliction, that the French Emperor, moved by a desire 50 to erect in North America a buttress for imperialism, would transform the Republic of Mexico into a secundo-geniture for the house of Hapsburg. America might complain; she could not then interpose, and delay seemed justifiable. It was seen that Mexico could not, with all its wealth of land, compete in cereal products with our Northwest, nor in tropical products with Cuba; nor could it, under a disputed dynasty, attract capital, or create public works, or develop mines, or bor row money; so that the imperial system of Mexico, which was forced at once to recognize the wisdom of the policy of the Republic by adopting it, could prove only an unremu- nerating drain on the French treasury for the support of an Austrian adventurer. Meantime a new series of momentous questions grows up, and forces itself on the consideration of the thoughtful. Republican ism has learned how to introduce into its constitution every element of order, as well as every element of freedom; but thus far the continuity of its government has seemed to depend on the continuity of elections. It is now to be considered how perpetuity is to be secured against foreign occupation. The successor of Charles the First of England dated his reign from the death of his father; the Bourbons, coming back after a long series of revolutions, claimed that the Louis who became King was the eighteenth of that name. The present Emperor of the French, disdain ing a title from election alone, calls himself Napoleon the Third. Shall a republic have less power of continuance when invading armies prevent a peaceful resort to the ballot box? What force shall it attach to intervening legislation? What validity to debts contracted for its overthrow? These momentous ques tions are, by the invasion of Mexico, thrown up for solution. A free state once truly 52 constituted should be as undying as its peo ple; the Republic of Mexico must rise again. It was the condition of affairs in Mexico that involved the Pope of Rome in our diffi culties so far that he alone among sover eigns recognized the chief of the Confederate States as a President, and his supporters as a people; and in letters to two great prel ates of the Catholic Church in the United States gave counsels for peace at a time when peace meant the victory of secession. Yet events move as they are ordered. The blessing of the Pope at Rome on the head of Duke Maximilian could not revive in the nineteenth century the ecclesiastical policy of the sixteenth; and the result is only a new proof that there can be no prosperity in the state without religious freedom. When it came home to the consciousness of the Americans that the war which they were waging was a war for the liberty of all 53 the nations of the world, for freedom itself, they thanked God for giving them strength to endure the severity of the trial to which He put their sincerity, and nerved themselves for their duty with an inexorable will. The Pres ident was led along by the greatness of their self-sacrificing example; and as a child, in a dark night on a rugged way, catches hold of the hand of its father for guidance and sup port, he clung fast to the hand of the people, and moved calmly through the gloom. While the statesmanship of Europe was mock ing at the hopeless vanity of their efforts, they put forth such miracles of energy as the history of the world had never known. The contributions to the popular loans amounted in four years to twenty-seven and a half hundred millions of dollars; the revenue of the country from taxation was increased sevenfold. The Navy of the United States, drawing into the public service the willing 54 militia of the seas, doubled its tonnage in eight months, and established an actual blockade from Cape Hatteras to the Rio Grande; in the course of the war it was increased fivefold in men and in tonnage, while the inventive genius of the country devised more effective kinds of ordnance and new forms of naval architecture in wood and iron. There went into the field for various terms of enlistment about two million men; and in March last the men in the Army exceeded a million; that is to say, nine of every twenty able-bodied men in the free Territories and States took some part in the war; and at one time every fifth of their able-bodied men was in service. In one single month one hundred and sixty-five thousand men were recruited into service. Once, within four weeks, Ohio organized and placed in the field forty-two regiments of infantry nearly thirty-six thousand men; and Ohio was like other States in the East and in the West. 55 The well-mounted cavalry numbered eighty- four thousand; of horses and mules there were bought, from first to last, two-thirds of a million. In the movements of troops science came in aid of patriotism, so that, to choose a single instance out of many, an army twenty- three thousand strong, with its artillery, trains, baggage, and animals, were moved by rail from the Potomac to the Tennessee, twelve hundred miles, in seven days. On the long marches wonders of military construction bridged the rivers, and wherever an army halted ample supplies awaited them at their ever changing base. The vile thought that life is the greatest of blessings did not rise up. In six hundred and twenty-five battles and severe skirmishes blood flowed like water. It streamed over the grassy plains; it stained the rocks; the undergrowth of the forests was red with it; and the armies marched on with majestic courage from one conflict to another, 56 knowing that they were fighting for God and liberty. The organization of the medical department met its infinitely multiplied duties with exactness and dispatch. At the news of a battle the best surgeons of our cities hastened to the field to offer the untiring aid of the greatest experience and skill. The gen tlest and most refined of women left homes of luxury and ease to build hospital tents near the armies and serve as nurses to the sick and dying. Besides the large supply of reli gious teachers by the public, the congrega tions spared to their brothers in the field the ablest ministers. The Christian Commission, which expended more than six and a quarter millions, sent nearly five thousand clergy men, chosen out of the best, to keep unsoiled the religious character of the men, and made gifts of clothes and food and medicine. The organization of private charity assumed unheard-of dimensions. The Sanitary Com- 57 mission, which had seven thousand socie ties, distributed, under the direction of an unpaid board, spontaneous contributions to the amount of fifteen millions in supplies or money a million and a half in money from California alone and dotted the scene of war, from Paducah to Port Royal, from Belle Plain, Virginia, to Brownsville, Texas, with homes and lodges. The country had for its allies the river Mississippi, which would not be divided, and the range of mountains which carried the stronghold of the free through western Vir ginia and Kentucky and Tennessee to the highlands of Alabama. But it invoked the still higher power of immortal justice. In ancient Greece, where servitude was the uni versal custom, it was held that if a child were to strike its parent, the slave should defend the parent, and by that act recover his freedom. After vain resistance LINCOLN, who had tried 58 to solve the question by gradual emancipation, by colonization, and by compensation, at last saw that slavery must be abolished or the Republic must die; and on the first day of January, 1863, he wrote liberty on the banners of the armies. When this proclamation, which struck the fetters from three millions of slaves, reached Europe, Lord Russell, a countryman of Milton and Wilberforce, eagerly put himself forward to speak of it in the name of mankind, saying: "It is of a very strange nature;" "a measure of war of a very questionable kind;" an act "of vengeance on the slave owner," that does no more than "profess to emancipate slaves where the United States authorities can not make emancipation a reality." Now, there was no part of the country embraced in the proclamation where the United States could not and did not make emancipation a reality. Those who saw LINCOLN most frequently had never before heard him speak with bitterness 59 of any human being; but he did not conceal how keenly he felt that he had been wronged by Lord Russell. And he wrote in reply to other cavils: "The emancipation policy and the use of colored troops were the greatest blows yet dealt to the rebellion; the job was a great national one, and let none be slighted who bore an honorable part in it. I hope peace will come soon and come to stay; then will there be some black men who can re member that they have helped mankind to this great consummation." The proclamation accomplished its end, for during the war our armies came into military possession of every State in rebellion. Then, too, was called forth the new power that comes from the simultaneous diffusion of thought and feeling among the nations of mankind. The mysterious sympathy of the millions throughout the world was given spontane ously. The best writers of Europe waked the 6o conscience of the thoughtful till the intelligent moral sentiment of the Old World was drawn to the side of the unlettered statesman of the West. Russia, whose Emperor had just accomplished one of the grandest acts in the course of time by raising twenty millions of bondmen into freeholders, and thus assuring the growth and culture of a Russian people, remained our unwavering friend. From the oldest abode of civilization, which gave the first example of an imperial government with equality among the people, Prince Kung, the secretary of state for foreign affairs, remem bered the saying of Confucius, that we should not do to others what we would not that others should do to us, and in the name of his Emperor read a lesson to European diplo matists by closing the ports of China against the war ships and privateers of "the seditious." The war continued, with all the peoples of the world for anxious spectators. Its cares 6i weighed heavily on LINCOLN, and his face was plowed with the furrows of thought and sadness. With malice toward none, free from the spirit of revenge, victory made him importunate for peace; and his enemies never doubted his word or despaired of his abound ing clemency. He longed to utter pardon as the word for all, but not unless the freedom of the negro should be assured. The grand battles of Fort Donelson, Chattanooga, Mal- vern Hill, Antietam, Gettysburg, the Wilder ness of Virginia, Winchester, Nashville, the capture of New Orleans, Vicksburg, Mobile, Fort Fisher, the march from Atlanta, and the capture of Savannah and Charleston, all fore told the issue. Still more, the self-regenera tion of Missouri, the heart of the continent; of Maryland, whose sons never heard the midnight bells chime so sweetly as when they rang out to earth and heaven that by the voice of her own people she took her place 62 among the free; of Tennessee, which passed through fire and blood, through sorrows and the shadow of death, to work out her own deliverance, and by the faithfulness of her own sons to renew her youth like the eagle proved that victory was deserved and would be worth all that it cost. If words of mercy, uttered as they were by LINCOLN on the waters of Virginia, were defiantly repelled, the armies of the country, moving with one will, went as the arrow to its mark, and with out a feeling of revenge struck a deathblow at rebellion. Where in the history of nations had a Chief Magistrate possessed more sources of consolation and joy than LINCOLN? His countrymen had shown their love by choos ing him to a second term of service. The raging war that had divided the country had lulled; and private grief was hushed by the grandeur of the result. The Nation had its 63 new birth of freedom, soon to be secured forever by an amendment of the Constitution. His persistent gentleness had conquered for him a kindlier feeling on the part of the South. His scoffers among the grandees of Europe began to do him honor. The laboring classes everywhere saw in his advancement their own. All peoples sent him their bene dictions. And at this moment of the height of his fame, to which his humility and mod esty added charms, he fell by the hand of the assassin; and the only triumph awarded him was the march to the grave. This is no time to say that human glory is but dust and ashes, that we mortals are no more than shadows in pursuit of shadows. How mean a thing were man, if there were not that within him which is higher than him self; if he could not master the illusions of sense, and discern the connections of events by a superior light which comes from God. 6 4 He so shares the divine impulses that he has power to subject interested passions to love of country, and personal ambition to the ennoblement of his kind. Not in vain has LINCOLN lived, for he has helped to make this Republic an example of justice, with no caste but the caste of humanity. The heroes who led our armies and ships into battle and fell in the service Lyon, McPherson, Reynolds, Sedgwick, Wadsworth, Foote, Ward, with their compeers did not die in vain; they / and the myriads of nameless martyrs, and he, the chief martyr, gave up their lives willingly "that government of the people, by the peo ple, and for the people shall not perish from the earth." The assassination of LINCOLN, who was so free from malice, has by some mysterious influence struck the country with solemn awe, and hushed, instead of exciting, the passion for revenge. It seems as if the just had died 65 for the unjust. When I think of the friends I have lost in this war and everyone who hears me has, like myself, lost some of those whom he most loved there is no consolation to be derived from victims on the scaffold, or from anything but the established union of the regenerated Nation. In his character LINCOLN was through and through an American. He is the first native of the region west of the Alleghanies to attain to the highest station; and how happy it is that the man who was brought forward as the natural outgrowth and first fruits of that region should have been of un blemished purity in private life, a good son, a kind husband, a most affectionate father, and, as a man, so gentle to all. As to integrity, Douglas, his rival, said of him: "LINCOLN is the honestest man I ever knew." The habits of his mind were those of med itation and inward thought, rather than of 9 66 action. He delighted to express his opinions by an apothegm, illustrate them by a parable, or drive them home by a story. He was skillful in analysis; discerned with precision the central idea on which a question turned, and knew how to disengage it and present it by itself in a few homely, strong old English words that would be intelligible to all. He excelled in logical statement, more than in executive ability. He reasoned clearly, his reflective judgment was good, and his pur poses were fixed; but, like the Hamlet of his only poet, his will was tardy in action; and for this reason, and not from humility or tenderness of feeling, he sometimes deplored that the duty which devolved on him had not fallen to the lot of another. LINCOLN gained a name by discussing questions which, of all others, most easily lead to fanaticism; but he was never carried away by enthusiastic zeal, never indulged in 6 7 extravagant language, never hurried to sup port extreme measures, never allowed himself to be controlled by sudden impulses. During the progress of the election at which he was chosen President he expressed no opinion that went beyond the Jefferson proviso of 1784. Like Jefferson and Lafayette, he had faith in the intuitions of the people, and read those intuitions with rare sagacity. He knew how to bide time, and was less apt to run ahead of public thought than to lag behind. He never sought to electrify the community by taking an advanced position with a banner of opinion, but rather studied to move for ward compactly, exposing no detachment in front or rear; so that the course of his Admin istration might have been explained as the calculating policy of a shrewd and watchful politician, had there not been seen behind it a fixedness of principle which from the first determined his purpose and grew more 68 intense with every year, consuming his life by its energy. Yet his sensibilities were not acute; he had no vividness of imagination to picture to his mind the horrors of the battlefield or the sufferings in hospitals; his conscience was more tender than his feelings. LINCOLN was one of the most unassuming of men. In time of success he gave credit for it to those whom he employed, to the people, and to the providence of God. He did not know what ostentation is; when he became President he was rather saddened than elated, and his conduct and manners showed more than ever his belief that all men are born equal. He was no respecter of persons, and neither rank nor reputation nor services overawed him. In judging of character he failed in discrimination, and his appointments were sometimes bad; but he readily deferred to public opinion, and in 6 9 appointing the head of the armies he fol lowed the manifest preference of Congress. A good President will secure unity to his Administration by his own supervision of the various Departments. LINCOLN, who accepted advice readily, was never governed by any member of his Cabinet, and could not be moved from a purpose deliberately formed; but his supervision of affairs was unsteady and incomplete, and sometimes, by a sudden interference transcending the usual forms, he rather confused than advanced the public business. If he ever failed in the scrupu lous regard due to the relative rights of Con gress, it was so evidently without design that no conflict could ensue, or evil precedent be established. Truth he would receive from anyone; but when impressed by others he did not use their opinions till by reflection he had made them thoroughly his own. It was the nature of LINCOLN to forgive. 7 o When hostilities ceased he, who had always sent forth the flag with every one of its stars in the field, was eager to receive back his returning countrymen, and meditated "some new announcement to the South." The amendment of the Constitution abolishing slavery had his most earnest and unwearied support. During the rage of war we get a glimpse into his soul from his privately suggesting to Louisiana that "in defining the franchise some of the colored people might be let in," saying: "They would probably help, in some trying time to come, to keep the jewel of liberty in the family of freedom." In 1857 he avowed himself "not in favor of" what he improperly called "negro citizenship;" for the Constitution discriminates between citizens and electors. Three days before his death he declared his preference that "the elective franchise were now conferred on the very intelligent of the colored men and on those 7 1 of them who served our cause as soldiers;" but he wished it done by the States them selves, and he never harbored the thought of exacting it from a new government as a condition of its recognition. The last day of his life beamed with sun shine, as he sent by the Speaker of this House his friendly greetings to the men of the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific slope; as he con templated the return of hundreds of thousands of soldiers to fruitful industry; as he welcomed in advance hundreds of thousands of emi grants from Europe; as his eye kindled with enthusiasm at the coming wealth of the Nation. And so, with these thoughts for his country, he was removed from the toils and tempta tions of this life and was at peace. Hardly had the late President been con signed to the grave when the prime minister of England died, full of years and honors. Palmerston traced his lineage to the time of 72 the Conqueror; LINCOLN went back only to his grandfather. Palrnerston received his education from the best scholars of Harrow, Edinburgh, and Cambridge; LINCOLN S early teachers were the silent forest, the prairie, the river, and the stars. Palrnerston was in public life for sixty years; LINCOLN for but a tenth of that time. Palmerston was a skillful guide of an established aristocracy; LINCOLN a leader or rather a companion of the people. Palmerston was exclusively an Englishman, and made his boast in the House of Com mons that the interest of England was his shibboleth; LINCOLN thought always of man kind as well as his own country, and served human nature itself. Palmerston, from his narrowness as an Englishman, did not endear his country to any one court or to any one nation, but rather caused general uneasiness and dislike; LINCOLN left America more be loved than ever by all the peoples of Europe. 73 Palmerston was self-possessed and adroit in reconciling the conflicting factions of the aris tocracy; LINCOLN, frank and ingenuous, knew how 7 to poise himself on the ever moving opinions of the masses. Palmerston was capable of insolence toward the weak, quick to the sense of honor, not heedful of right; LINCOLN rejected counsel given only as a matter of policy, and was not capable of being willfully unjust. Palmerston, essentially superficial, delighted in banter and knew how to divert grave opposition by playful levity; LINCOLN was a man of infinite jest on his lips, with saddest earnestness at his heart. Palmerston was a fair representative of the aristocratic liberality of the day, choosing for his tribunal, not the conscience of humanity, but the House of Commons; LINCOLN took to heart the eternal truths of liberty, obeyed them as the commands of Providence, and accepted the human race as the judge of his 74 fidelity. Palmerston did nothing that will endure; LINCOLN finished a work which all time can not overthrow. Palmerston is a shining example of the ablest of a cultivated aristocracy; LINCOLN is the genuine fruit of institutions where the laboring man shares and assists to form the great ideas and designs of his country. Palmerston was buried in Westminster Abbey by the order of his Queen, and was attended by the British aristocracy to his grave, which after a few years will hardly be noticed by the side of the graves of Fox and Chatham; LINCOLN was followed by the sorrow of his country across the continent to his resting place in the heart of the Mississippi Valley, to be remembered through all time by his coun trymen and by all the peoples of the world. As the sum of all, the hand of LINCOLN raised the flag; the American people was the hero of the war; and therefore the result is a 75 new era of republicanism. The disturbances in the country grew not out of anything republican, but out of slavery, which is a part of the system of hereditary wrong; and the expulsion of this domestic anomaly opens to the renovated Nation a career of unthought-of dignity and glory. Henceforth our country has a moral unity as the land of free labor. The party for slavery and the party against slavery are no more, and are merged in the party of union and freedom. The States which would have left us are not brought back as subjugated States, for then we should hold them only so long as that conquest could be maintained; they come to their rightful place under the Constitution as original, necessary, and inseparable members of the Union. We build monuments to the dead, but no monuments of victory. We respect the example of the Romans, who never, even in 7 6 conquered lands, raised emblems of triumph. And our generals are not to be classed in the herd of vulgar warriors, but are of the school of Timoleon and William of Nassau and Washington. They have used the sword only to give peace to their country and restore her to her place in the great assem bly of the nations. Senators and Representatives of America, as I bid you farewell, my last words shall be words of hope and confidence; for now slav ery is no more, the Union is restored, a people begins to live according to the laws of reason, and republicanism is intrenched in a continent. APPENDIX. 77 PROCEEDINGS IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. MONDAY, February 12, 1866. The House met at twelve o clock m. Prayer by the Chaplain, Rev. Dr. C. B. Boynton, as follows: "Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name. We thank Thee that once more through the night watches we were safely guarded by Thee, and that our eyes have been opened in peace through Thy love to behold the coming of this gladly solemn day. And now that we are to be called away from the usual public duties of the positions that are occupied here to hold converse awhile with death and with the memories of one whom we 79 8o all honored and loved so much, we beseech Thee, O God, that in Thine infinite mercy Thou wilt grant us all grace to profit as we should by the occasion. We turn away from all relations of a public nature, to country and to time, to think of those more solemn ones that we bear to eternity and to God. May everyone be induced by Thy Holy Spirit to consider to-day what the tendency of life is whether through faith in Jesus Christ it will end in everlasting life. O Lord, prepare all for the proper observance of this solemn day. May everyone interested, and all who may participate in this service, be guided of God, so that all being done decently and in order, this magnificent and solemn testimonial of the Nation to the worth of our departed and murdered President may make a due impres sion on the national heart. "And when all is over here, when all the pomp and the pride and the pageantries of 8i earth have passed away, may we all be received into Thy heavenly kingdom, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." To-day had been selected for services to commemorate the life and death of ABRAHAM LINCOLN, late President of the United States, in accordance with the following concurrent resolutions reported from the select joint committee appointed to consider and report by what token of respect and affection it may be proper for the Congress of the United States to express the deep sensibility of the Nation to the event of the decease of their late President, ABRAHAM LINCOLN, and adopted unanimously by the two Houses of Congress: "Whereas the melancholy event of the violent and tragic death of ABRAHAM LINCOLN, late President of the United States, having occurred during the recess of Congress, and 82 the two Houses sharing in the general grief and desiring to manifest their sensibility upon the occasion of the public bereavement: Therefore, "Be it resolved by the Senate (the House of Representatives concurring], That the two Houses of Congress will assemble in the Hall of the House of Representatives on Monday, the twelfth day of February next, that being his anniversary birthday, at the hour of twelve meridian, and that, in the presence of the two Houses there assembled, an address upon the life and character of ABRAHAM LINCOLN, late President of the United States, be pronounced by Hon. Edwin M. Stan ton, a and that the President of the Senate pro tempore and the Speaker of the House of Representatives be requested to invite the President of the United States, the heads of the several Departments, a Mr. Stanton having declined, the committee selected Hon. George Bancroft to pronounce the address. 83 the Judges of the Supreme Court, the repre sentatives of the foreign Governments near this Government, and such officers of the Army and Navy as have received the thanks of Congress who may then be at the seat of government, to be present on the occasion. "And be it further resolved, That the President of the United States be requested to transmit a copy of these resolutions to Mrs. Lincoln, and to assure her of the profound sympathy of the two Houses of Congress for her deep personal affliction, and of their sincere condolence for the late national bereavement." The Speaker s desk, and the desk of the Clerk of the House, which was to be occupied by the Orator of the day, were draped in mourning. At twelve o clock and ten minutes p. m. the members of the Senate, following their President pro tempore and their Secretary, and 8 4 preceded by their Sergeant-at-Arms, entered the Hall of the House of Representatives and occupied the seats reserved for them on the right and left of the main aisle. The President pro tempore occupied the Speaker s chair, the Speaker of the House sitting at his left. The Chaplains of the Senate and of the House were seated on the right and left of the Presiding Officers of their respective Houses. Shortly afterwards the President of the United States, with the members of his Cabi net, entered the Hall and occupied seats, the President in front of the Speaker s table, and his Cabinet immediately on his right. Immediately after the entrance of the President, the Chief Justice and the Associate Justices of the Supreme Court of the United States entered the Hall and occupied seats next to the President, on the right of the Speaker s table. 85 The others present were seated as fol lows: The heads of Departments, with the diplo matic corps, next to the President, on the left of the Speaker s table; Officers of the Army and Navy who by name have received the thanks of Congress, next to the Supreme Court, on the right of the Speaker s table; Assistant heads of Departments, gover nors of States and Territories, and the mayors of Washington and Georgetown, directly in the rear of the heads of Departments; The chief justice and judges of the Court of Claims, and the chief justice and associate justices of the supreme court of the District of Columbia, directly in the rear of the Supreme Court; The heads of bureaus in the Departments, directly in the rear of the officers of the Army and Navy; 86 Representatives, on either side of the Hall, in the rear of those invited, four rows of seats on either side of the main aisles being reserved for Senators; The Orator of the day, Hon. George Bancroft, at the table of the Clerk of the House; The chairmen of the joint committee of arrangements, at the right and left of the Orator, and next to them the Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House; The other officers of the Senate and of the House, on the floor at the right and the left of the Speaker s platform. When order was restored the Marine Band, stationed in the vestibule, played ap propriate dirges. At twelve o clock and thirty minutes p. m. the two Houses were called to order by the President pro tempore of the Senate. Rev. Dr. Boynton, Chaplain of the House of Representatives, offered the following prayer: "Almighty God, who dost inhabit eternity, while we appear but for a little moment and then vanish away, we adore the Eternal Name. Infinite in power and majesty and greatly to be feared art Thou. All earthly distinctions disappear in Thy presence, and we come before Thy throne simply as men, fallen men, condemned alike by Thy law, and justly cut off through sin from com munion with Thee. But through Thy in finite mercy a new way of access has been opened through Thy Son, and consecrated by His blood. We come in that all-worthy Name, and plead the promise of pardon and acceptance through Him. "By the imposing solemnities of this scene we are carried back to the hour when the Nation heard, and shuddered at the hearing, 88 that ABRAHAM LINCOLN was dead was mur dered. We would bow ourselves submis sively to Him by whom that awful hour was appointed. We bow to the stroke that fell on the country in the very hour of its triumph and hushed all its shouts of victory to one voiceless sorrow. The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. The shadow of that death has not yet passed from the heart of the Nation, as this national testimonial bears witness to-day. The gloom thrown from these sur rounding emblems of death is fringed, we know, with the glory of a great triumph, and the light of a great and good man s memory. Still, O Lord, may this hour bring to us the proper warning. Be ye also ready, for in such an hour as ye think not the Son of Man cometh. Any one of us may be called as suddenly as he whom we mourn. "We worship Thee as the God of our 9 fathers. Thou didst trace for them a path over the trackless sea, and bring them to these shores, bearing with them the seed of a great dominion. We thank Thee that the life power of the young Nation they planted received from Thee such energy, guidance, and protection that it spread rapidly over the breadth of the continent, carrying with it Christian liberty, churches, schools, and all the blessings of a Christian civilization. We thank Thee that the progress of the true American life has been irresistible, because sustained by Thy eternal counsels and Thy Almighty power, and because the might of God was in this national life. We have seen it sweeping all opposition away, grinding great systems and parties to powder, and breaking in pieces the devices of men; and Thou hast raised up for it heroic defenders in every hour of peril. We thank Thee, O Strong Defender. And when treason was 12 9 o hatching its plot and massing its armies, then, O God of Israel, who didst bring David from the sheepfold, Thou gavest one reared in the humble cabin to become the hope and stay of this great people in their most peril ous hour, to shield them in disaster, and lead them to final victory. "We thank Thee that Thou gavest us an honest man, simple-hearted and loving as a child, but with a rugged strength that needed only culture and discipline. Thanks be to God that this discipline was granted him through stern public trial, domestic sor row, and Thy solemn providences, till the mere politician was overshadowed by the nobler growth of his moral and spiritual nature, till he came, as we believe, into sym pathy with Christ, and saw that we could succeed only by doing justice. Then, in spired by Thee, he uttered those words of power which changed three millions of slaves 9 r into men the great act which has rendered his name forever illustrious and secured the triumph of our cause. We think of him almost as the prophet of his era. Thou didst make that honest, great-hearted man the central figure of his age, setting upon good ness, upon moral grandeur, the seal of Thine approval and the crown of victory. We bless Thee that he did not die until assured of victory, until he knew that his great work was done, and he had received all the honor that earth could bestow; and then we believe Thou didst give him a martyr s crown. We thank Thee that we have this hope for the illustrious dead. "Great reason have we also to thank Thee that such was the enduring strength of our institutions that they received no perceptible shock from the death of even such a man, and in such an hour, and that Thou didst provide for that perilous moment one whose 92 strength was sufficient to receive and bear the weight of government, and who, we trust, will work out the great problem of Christian freedom to its final solution, and by equal law and equal rights bind this great people into one inseparable whole. "We thank Thee that the representatives of the Nation have come to sit to-day in the shadow of ABRAHAM LINCOLN S tomb, to express once more their now chastened sor row. May they all reconsecrate themselves to those principles which made him worthy to be remembered thus; and then a redeemed and transfigured land will be a fitting monu ment for him and for them. "Endow the President with wisdom equal to his great responsibilities, that the blessings of a whole Nation may also be given to him. May his advisers, our judges, and our legisla tors be constantly instructed by Thee. "May Thy blessing rest on the officers of 93 the Army and Navy, by whose skill and courage our triumph was won; upon our sol diers and sailors; upon our people, and on those who are struggling on toward a perfect manhood. "Bless these eminent men, the honored representatives of foreign powers. Remem ber the sovereigns and people they represent. We thank Thee that peace reigns with them as with us. May it continue until the nations shall learn war no more. "Remember ABRAHAM LINCOLN S widow and family. Comfort them in their sore be reavement. May they be consoled to know how much the father and husband is loved and honored still. "Give Divine support to the distinguished orator of the day. May he so speak as to impress the whole Nation s mind. Prepare us to live as men in this age should, that we may be received into Thy heavenly kingdom; 94 and to Thy name shall be the praise and the glory forevermore. Amen." Hon. Lafayette S. Foster, President pro tempore of the Senate, in introducing the Orator of the day, said: " No ordinary occasion could have con vened this august assemblage. For four weary years the storm of war, of civil war, raged fiercely over our country. The blood of the best and bravest of her sons was freely shed to preserve her name and place among the nations of the earth. In April last the dark clouds which had so long hung heavily and gloomily over our heads were all dis persed, and the light of peace, more welcome even than the vernal sunshine, gladdened the eyes and the hearts of our people. Shouts of joy and songs of triumph echoed through the land. The hearts of the devout poured themselves in orisons and thanksgivings to 95 the God of battles and of nations that the most wicked and most formidable rebellion ever known in human history had been effec tually crushed and our country saved. "In the midst of all this abounding joy, suddenly and swiftly as the lightning s flash, came the fearful tidings that the Chief Magis trate of the Republic, our President, loved and honored as few men ever were, so honest, so faithful, so true to his duty and his country, had been foully murdered had fallen by the bullet of an assassin. All hearts were stricken with horror. The transition from extreme joy to profound sorrow was never more sud den and universal. Had it been possible for a stranger, ignorant of the truth, to look over our land, he would have supposed that there had come upon us some visitation of the Almighty not less dreadful than that which once fell on ancient Egypt on that fearful night when there was not a house where 96 there was not one dead. The Nation wept for him. "After being gazed upon by myriads of loving eyes, under the Dome of this magnifi cent Capitol, the remains of our President were borne in solemn procession through our cities, towns, and villages, all draped in the habiliments of sorrow, the symbols and tokens of profound and heartfelt grief, to their final resting place in the capital of his own State. There he sleeps, peacefully embalmed in his country s tears. "The Senate and House of Represent atives of the United States have deemed it proper to commemorate this tragic event by appropriate services. This day, the birth day of him whom we mourn, has properly been selected. An eminent citizen, distin guished by his labors and services in high and responsible public positions at home and abroad whose pen has instructed the 97 present age in the history of his country, and done much to transmit the fame and renown of that country to future ages Hon. George Bancroft will now deliver a discourse." Mr. Bancroft (who, on coming forward, was greeted with warm demonstrations of applause) then proceeded to deliver the memorial address. The exercises of the occasion were closed by the following benediction by the Rev. Dr. Gray, Chaplain of the Senate: "God of a bereaved Nation, from Thy high and holy habitation look down upon us and suitably impress us to-day with a sense that God only is great. Kings and Presidents die; but Thou, the universal Ruler, livest to roll on Thine undisturbed affairs forever, from Thy throne. A wail has gone up from the heart of the Nation to heaven O hear, 13 9 8 and pity, and assuage, and save. We pray that Thou wilt command Thy blessing now, which is life forevermore, upon the family of the President dead; upon the President liv ing; upon the ministers of state; upon the united Houses of Congress; upon the judges of our courts; upon the officers of the Army and the Navy; upon the broken families and desolated homes all over the land, and especially upon the Nation. And grant that grace and peace and mercy from the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God the Father, and the fellowship of God the Spirit, may rest upon and abide with us all, forever and ever. Amen." The members of the Senate, the Presi dent of the United States, the Orator of the day, and the invited guests withdrew, while the Marine Band rendered national airs. MEMORIAL ADDRESS ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF JAMES A. GARFIELD BY HON. JAMES G. BLAINE DELIVERED BEFORE THE TWO HOUSES OK CONGRESS, FEBRUARY 27, 1882 99 JAMES A. GARFIELD. Mr. PRESIDENT: For the second time in this generation the great departments of the Government of the United States are assembled in the Hall of Representatives to do honor to the mem ory of a murdered President. Lincoln fell at the close of a mighty struggle in which the passions of men had been deeply stirred. The tragical termination of his great life added but another to the lengthened suc cession of horrors which had marked so many lintels with the blood of the firstborn. GARFIELD was slain in a day of peace, when brother had been reconciled to brother, and when anger and hate had been banished IO2 from the land. "Whoever shall hereafter draw the portrait of murder, if he will show it as it has been exhibited where such exam ple was last to have been looked for, let him not give it the grim visage of Moloch, the brow knitted by revenge, the face black with settled hate. Let him draw, rather, a decorous, smooth-faced, bloodless demon; not so much an example of human nature in its depravity and in its paroxysms of crime, as an infernal being, a fiend in the ordinary display and development of his character." From the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth till the uprising against Charles the First, about twenty thousand emigrants came from old England to New England. As they came in pursuit of intellectual free dom and ecclesiastical independence rather than for worldly honor and profit, the emigra tion naturally ceased when the contest for religious liberty began in earnest at home. 103 The man who struck his most effective blow for freedom of conscience by sailing for the colonies in 1620 would have been accounted a deserter to leave after 1640. The oppor tunity had then come on the soil of England for that great contest which established the authority of Parliament, gave religious free dom to the people, sent Charles to the block, and committed to the hands of Oliver Crom well the supreme executive authority of Eng land. The English emigration was never renewed, and from these twenty thousand men, and from a small emigration from Scot land, from Ireland, and from Erance, are descended the vast numbers who have New England blood in their veins. In 1685 the revocation of the edict of Nantes by Louis the Fourteenth scattered to other countries four hundred thousand Protestants, who were among the most intel ligent and enterprising of Erench subjects 104 merchants of capital, skilled manufacturers, and handicraftsmen, superior at the time to all others in Europe. A considerable number of these Huguenot French came to America; a few landed in New England and became honorably prominent in its history. Their names have in large part become angli cized, or have disappeared, but their blood is traceable in many of the most reputable families, and their fame is perpetuated in honorable memorials and useful institutions. From these two sources, the English- Puritan and the French-Huguenot, came the late President his father, Abram Gar- field, being descended from the one, and his mother, Eliza Ballou, from the other. It was good stock on both sides none better, none braver, none truer. There was in it an inheritance of courage, of manliness, of imperishable love of liberty, of undying adherence to principle. GARFIELD was proud of his blood; and, with as much satisfaction as if he were a British nobleman reading his stately ancestral record in Burke s Peer age, he spoke of himself as ninth in descent from those who would not endure the oppression of the Stuarts, and seventh in descent from the brave French Protestants who refused to submit to tyranny even from the Grand Monarque. General GARFIELD delighted to dwell on these traits, and, during his only visit to England, he busied himself in searching out every trace of his forefathers in parish regis tries and on ancient army rolls. Sitting with a friend in the gallery of the House of Com mons, one night, after a long day s labor in this field of research, he said, with evident elation, that in every war in which for three centuries patriots of English blood had struck sturdy blows for constitutional government and human liberty, his family had been 14 io6 represented. They were at Marston Moor, at Naseby, and at Preston; they were at Bunker Hill, at Saratoga, and at Monmouth, and in his own person had battled for the same great cause in the war which preserved the Union of the States. His father dying before he was two years old, GARFIELD S early life was one of privation, but its poverty has been made indelicately and unjustly prominent. Thou sands of readers have imagined him as the ragged, starving child, whose reality too often greets the eye in the squalid sections of our large cities. General GARFIELD S infancy and youth had none of this destitution, none of these pitiful features appealing to the tender heart and to the open hand of charity. He was a poor boy in the same sense in which Henry Clay was a poor boy; in which Andrew Jackson was a poor boy; in which Daniel Webster was a poor boy; in the sense in io 7 which a large majority of the eminent men of America in all generations have been poor boys. Before a great multitude, in a public speech, Mr. Webster bore this testimony: "It did not happen to me to be born in a log cabin, but my elder brothers and sisters were born in a log cabin raised amid the snowdrifts of New Hampshire, at a period so early that when the smoke rose first from its rude chimney and curled over the frozen hills there was no similar evidence of a white man s habitation between it and the settle ments on the rivers of Canada. Its remains still exist. I make to it an annual visit. I carry my children to it to teach them the hardships endured by the generations which have gone before them. I love to dwell on the tender recollections, the kindred ties, the early affections, and the touching narratives and incidents which mingle with all I know of this primitive family abode." io8 With the requisite change of scene the same words would aptly portray the early days of GARFIELD. The poverty of the fron tier, where all are engaged in a common struggle and where a common sympathy and hearty cooperation lighten the burdens of each, is a very different poverty, different in kind, different in influence and effect, from that conscious and humiliating indigence which is every day forced to contrast itself with neighboring wealth on which it feels a sense of grinding dependence. The poverty of the frontier is indeed no poverty. It is but the beginning of wealth, and has the boundless possibilities of the future always opening before it. No man ever grew up in the agricultural regions of the West, where a house raising, or even a corn husking, is matter of common interest and helpful ness, with any other feeling than that of broad-minded, generous independence. This 109 honorable independence marked the youth of GARFIELD as it marks the youth of millions of the best blood and brain now training for the future citizenship and future government of the Republic. GARFIELD was born heir to land, to the title of freeholder, which has been the patent and passport of self-respect with the Anglo-Saxon race ever since Hengist and Horsa landed on the shores of England. His adventure on the canal an alternative between that and the deck of a Lake Erie schooner was a farmer boy s device for earning money, just as the New England lad begins a possibly great career by sailing before the mast on a coasting vessel or on a merchantman bound to the farther India or to the China seas. No manly man feels anything of shame in looking back to early struggles with ad verse circumstances, and no man feels a worthier pride than when he has conquered no the obstacles to his progress. But no one of noble mold desires to be looked upon as having occupied a menial position, as having been repressed by a feeling of inferiority, or as having suffered the evils of poverty until relief was found at the hand of charity. Gen eral GARFIELD S youth presented no hard ships which family love and family energy did not overcome, subjected him to no priva tions which he did not cheerfully accept, and left no memories save those which were recalled with delight, and transmitted with profit and with pride. GARFIELD S early opportunities for secur ing an education were extremely limited, and yet were sufficient to develop in him an intense desire to learn. He could read at three years of age, and each winter he had the advantage of the district school. He read all the books to be found within the circle of his acquaintance; some of them he got by Ill heart. While yet in childhood he was a constant student of the Bible, and became familiar with its literature. The dignity and earnestness of his speech in his maturer life gave evidence of this early training. At eighteen years of age he was able to teach school, and thenceforward his ambition was to obtain a college education. To this end he bent all his efforts, working in the harvest field, at the carpenter s bench, and, in the winter season, teaching the common schools of the neighborhood. While thus labori ously occupied he found time to prosecute his studies, and was so successful that at twenty-two years of age he was able to enter the junior class at Williams College, then under the presidency of the venerable and honored Mark Hopkins, who, in the fullness of his powers, survives the eminent pupil to whom he was of inestimable serv ice. The history of GARFIELD S life to this 112 period presents no novel features. He had undoubtedly shown perseverance, self-reli ance, self-sacrifice, and ambition qualities which, be it said for the honor of our coun try, are everywhere to be found among the young men of America. But from his grad uation at Williams onward, to the hour of his tragical death, GARFIELD S career was eminent and exceptional. Slowly working through his educational period, receiving his diploma when twenty-four years of age, he seemed at one bound to spring into con spicuous and brilliant success. Within six years he was successively president of a college, State senator of Ohio, major-general of the Army of the United States, and Rep resentative-elect to the national Congress. A combination of honors so varied, so ele vated, within a period so brief and to a man so young, is without precedent or parallel in the history of the country. "3 GARFIELD S army life was begun with no other military knowledge than such as he had hastily gained from books in the few months preceding his march to the field. Stepping from civil life to the head of a regiment, the first order he received when ready to cross the Ohio was to assume command of a brigade, and to operate as an independent force in eastern Kentucky. His immediate duty was to check the advance of Humphrey Marshall, who was marching down the Big Sandy with the intention of occupying, in connection with other Confederate forces, the entire territory of Kentucky, and of precipi tating the State into secession. This was at the close of the year 1861. Seldom, if ever, has a young college professor been thrown into a more embarrassing and discouraging position. He knew just enough of military science, as he expressed it himself, to meas ure the extent of his ignorance, and with a 15 handful of men he was marching, in rough winter weather, into a strange country, among a hostile population, to confront a largely superior force under the command of a distinguished graduate of West Point, who had seen active and important service in two preceding wars. The result of the campaign is matter of history. The skill, the endurance, the extra ordinary energy shown by GARFIELD, the courage he imparted to his men, raw and untried as himself, the measures he adopted to increase his force and to create in the enemy s mind exaggerated estimates of his numbers, bore perfect fruit in the routing of Marshall, the capture of his camp, the dis persion of his force, and the emancipation of an important territory from the control of the rebellion. Coming at the close of a long series of disasters to the Union arms, GARFIELD S victory had an unusual and extraneous importance, and in the popular judgment elevated the young commander to the rank of a military hero. With less than two thousand men in his entire command, with a mobilized force of only eleven hun dred, without cannon, he had met an army of five thousand and defeated them driv ing Marshall s forces successively from two strongholds of their own selection, fortified with abundant artillery. Major -General Buell, commanding the Department of the Ohio, an experienced and able soldier of the Regular Army, published an order of thanks and congratulation on the brilliant result of the Big Sandy campaign, which would have turned the head of a less cool and sen sible man than GARFIELD. Buell declared that his services had called into action the highest qualities of a soldier, and Presi dent Lincoln supplemented these words of praise by the more substantial reward of a n6 brigadier-general s commission, to bear date from the day of his decisive victory over Marshall. The subsequent military career of GAR- FIELD fully sustained its brilliant beginning. With his new commission he was assigned to the command of a brigade in the Army of the Ohio, and took part in the second and decisive day s fight on the bloody field of Shiloh. The remainder of the year 1862 was not especially eventful to GARFIELD, as it was not to the armies with which he was serving. His practical sense was called into exercise in completing the task, assigned him by General Buell, of reconstructing bridges and reestablishing lines of railway communication for the Army. His occupation in this useful but not brilliant field was varied by service on courts-martial of importance, in which department of duty he won a valuable repu tation, attracting the notice and securing the approval of the able and eminent judge- advocate-general of the Army. This of itself was warrant to honorable fame; for among the great men who in those trying days gave themselves, with entire devotion, to the serv ice of their country, one who brought to that service the ripest learning, the most fervid eloquence, the most varied attainments, who labored with modesty and shunned applause, who in the day of triumph sat reserved and silent and grateful as Francis Deak in the hour of Hungary s deliverance was Joseph Holt, of Kentucky, who in his honorable retirement enjoys the respect and veneration of all who love the Union of the States. Early in 1863 GARFIELD was assigned to the highly important and responsible post of chief of staff to General Rosecrans, then at the head of the Army of the Cumberland. Perhaps in a great military campaign no sub ordinate officer requires sounder judgment n8 and quicker knowledge of men than the chief of staff to the commanding general. An indiscreet man in such a position can sow more discord, breed more jealousy and dis seminate more strife than any other officer in the entire organization. When General GARFIELD assumed his new duties he found / various troubles already well developed and seriously affecting the value and efficiency of the Army of the Cumberland. The energy, the impartiality, and the tact with which he sought to allay these dissensions and to dis charge the duties of his new and trying position will always remain one of the most striking proofs of his great versatility. His military duties closed on the memorable field of Chickamauga, a field which, however disastrous to the Union arms, gave to him the occasion of winning imperishable laurels. The very rare distinction was accorded him of a great promotion for bravery on a field that was lost. President Lincoln appointed him a major-general in the Army of the United States for gallant and meritorious conduct in the battle of Chickamauga. The Army of the Cumberland was reor ganized under the command of General Thomas, who promptly offered GARFIELD one of its divisions. He was extremely desirous to accept the position, but was embarrassed by the fact that he had, a year before, been elected to Congress, and the time when he must take his seat was drawing near. He preferred to remain in the military service, and had within his own breast the largest confidence of success in the wider field which his new rank opened to him. Balancing the arguments on the one side and the other, anxious to determine what was for the best, desirous above all things to do his patriotic duty, he was decisively influenced by the advice of President Lincoln and Secretary 120 Stanton, both of whom assured him that he could, at that time, be of especial value in the House of Representatives. He resigned his commission of major-general on the fifth day of December, 1863, and took his seat in the House of Representatives on the seventh. He had served two years and four months in the Army, and had just completed his thirty-second year. The Thirty-eighth Congress is preemi nently entitled in history to the designation of the War Congress. It was elected while the war was flagrant, and every member was chosen upon the issues involved in the con tinuance of the struggle. The Thirty-seventh Congress had, indeed, legislated to a large extent on war measures, but it was chosen before anyone believed that secession of the States would be actually attempted. The magnitude of the work which fell upon its successor was unprecedented, both in respect 121 to the vast sums of money raised for the sup port of the Army and Navy, and of the new and extraordinary powers of legislation which it was forced to exercise. Only twenty-four States were represented, and one hundred and eighty-two members were upon its roll. Among these were many distinguished party leaders on both sides, veterans in the public service, with established reputations for ability and with that skill which comes only from parliamentary experience. Into this assem blage of men GARFIELD entered without special preparation, and it might almost be said unexpectedly. The question of taking command of a division of troops under Gen eral Thomas or taking his seat in Congress was kept open till the last moment so late, indeed, that the resignation of his military commission and his appearance in the House were almost contemporaneous. He wore the uniform of a major-general of the United 16 122 States Army on Saturday, and on Monday, in civilian s dress, he answered to the roll call as a Representative in Congress from the State of Ohio. He was especially fortunate in the constit uency which elected him. Descended almost entirely from New England stock, the men of the Ashtabula district were intensely rad ical on all questions relating to human rights. Well educated, thrifty, thoroughly intelligent in affairs, acutely discerning of character, not quick to bestow confidence and slow to withdraw it, they were at once the most helpful and most exacting of support ers. Their tenacious trust in men in whom they have once confided is illustrated by the unparalleled fact that Elisha Whittlesey, Joshua R. Giddings, and JAMES A. GARFIELD represented the district for fifty-four years. There is no test of a man s ability in any department of public life more severe than 123 service in the House of Representatives; there is no place where so little deference is paid to reputation previously acquired, or to emi nence won outside; no place where so little consideration is shown for the feelings or the failures of beginners. What a man gains in the House he gains by sheer force of his own character, and if he loses and falls back he must expect no mercy and will receive no sympathy. It is a field in which the survival of the strongest is the recognized rule, and where no pretense can deceive and no glamour can mislead. The real man is dis covered, his worth is impartially weighed, his rank is irreversibly decreed. With possibly a single exception GAR- FIELD was the youngest member in the House when he entered, and was but seven years from his college graduation. But he had not been in his seat sixty days before his ability was recognized and his place conceded. 124 He stepped to the front with the confidence of one who belonged there. The House was crowded with strong men of both parties; nineteen of them have since been transferred to the Senate, and many of them have served with distinction in the gubernatorial chairs of their respective States, and on foreign mis sions of great consequence; but among them all none grew so rapidly, none so firmly as GARFIELD. As is said by Trevelyan of his parliamentary hero, GARFIELD succeeded "be cause all the world in concert could not have kept him in the background, and because when once in the front he played his part with a prompt intrepidity and a commanding ease that were but the outward symptoms of the immense reserves of energy, on which it was in his power to draw." Indeed the apparently reserved force which GARFIELD possessed was one of his great characteristics. He never did so well but that it seemed he 125 could easily have done better. He never expended so much strength but that he appeared to be holding additional power at call. This is one of the happiest and rarest distinctions of an effective debater, and often counts for as much in persuading an assem bly as the eloquent and elaborate argument. The great measure of GARFIELD S fame was filled by his service in the House of Rep resentatives. His military life, illustrated by honorable performance and rich in promise, was, as he himself felt, prematurely termi nated and necessarily incomplete. Specula tion as to what he might have done in a field where the great prizes are so few can not be profitable. It is sufficient to say that as a soldier he did his duty bravely; he did it intelligently; he won an enviable fame, and he retired from the service without blot or breath against him. As a lawyer, though admirably equipped for the profession, he 126 can scarcely be said to have entered on its practice. The few efforts he made at the bar were distinguished by the same high order of talent which he exhibited on every field where he was put to the test, and if a man may be accepted as a competent judge of his own capacities and adaptations, the law was the profession to which GARFIELD should have devoted himself. But fate ordained other wise, and his reputation in history will rest largely upon his service in the House of Representatives. That service was excep tionally long. He was nine times consecu tively chosen to the House, an honor enjoyed probably by not twenty other Representa tives of the more than five thousand who have been elected from the organization of the Government to this hour. As a parliamentary orator, as a debater on an issue squarely joined, where the posi tion had been chosen and the ground laid 127 out, GARFIELD must be assigned a very high rank. More, perhaps, than any man with whom he was associated in public life, he gave careful and systematic study to public questions and he came to every discussion in which he took part with elaborate and com plete preparation. He was a steady and indefatigable worker. Those who imagine that talent or genius can supply the place or achieve the results of labor will find no encouragement in GARFIELD S life. In pre liminary work he was apt, rapid, and skillful. He possessed in a high degree the power of readily absorbing ideas and facts, and, like Dr. Johnson, had the art of getting from a book all that was of value in it by a read ing apparently so quick and cursory that it seemed like a mere glance at the table of contents. He was a preeminently fair and candid man in debate, took no petty ad vantage, stooped to no unworthy methods, 128 avoided personal allusions, rarely appealed to prejudice, did not seek to inflame passion. He had a quicker eye for the strong point of his adversary than for his weak point, and on his own side he so marshaled his weighty arguments as to make his hearers forget any possible lack in the complete strength of his position. He had a habit of stating his oppo nent s side with such amplitude of fairness and such liberality of concession that his fol lowers often complained that he was giving his case away. But never in his prolonged participation in the proceedings of the House did he give his case away, or fail in the judg ment of competent and impartial listeners to gain the mastery. These characteristics, which marked GAR- FIELD as a great debater, did not, however, make him a great parliamentary leader. A parliamentary leader, as that term is under stood wherever free representative govern- 129 ment exists, is necessarily and very strictly the organ of his party. An ardent American defined the instinctive warmth of patriotism when he offered the toast: "Our country, always right; but right or wrong, our coun try." The parliamentary leader who has a body of followers that will do and dare and die for the cause is one who believes his party always right, but, right or wrong, is for his party. No more important or exacting duty devolves upon him than the selection of the field and the time for contest. He must know not merely how to strike, but where to strike and when to strike. He often skill fully avoids the strength of his opponent s position and scatters confusion in his ranks by attacking an exposed point when really the righteousness of the cause and the strength of logical intrenchment are against him. He conquers often both against the right and the heavy battalions; as when young Charles 17 130 Fox, in the days of his Toryism, carried the House of Commons against justice, against its immemorial rights, against his own con victions if, indeed, at that period Fox had convictions and, in the interest of a corrupt administration, in obedience to a tyrannical sovereign, drove Wilkes from the seat to which the electors of Middlesex had chosen him and installed Luttrell, in defiance not merely of law but of public decency. For an achievement of that kind GARFIELD was disqualified disqualified by the texture of his mind, by the honesty of his heart, by his conscience, and by every instinct and aspiration of his nature. The three most distinguished parlia mentary leaders hitherto developed in this country are Mr. Clay, Mr. Douglas, and Mr. Thaddeus Stevens. They were all men of consummate ability, of great earnestness, of intense personality, differing widely each from the others, and yet with a signal trait in common the power to command. In the give and take of daily discussion, in the art of controlling and consolidating reluctant and refractory followers, in the skill to overcome all forms of opposition and to meet with com petency and courage the varying phases of unlooked-for assault or unsuspected defection, it would be difficult to rank with these a fourth name in all our Congressional history. But of these Mr. Clay was the greatest. It would, perhaps, be impossible to find in the parliamentary annals of the world a parallel to Mr. Clay, in 1841, when at sixty-four years of age he took the control of the Whig party from the President who had received their suffrages, against the power of Webster in the Cabinet, against the eloquence of Choate in the Senate, against the herculean efforts of Caleb Gushing and Henry A. Wise in the House. In unshared leadership, in the pride 132 and plenitude of power, he hurled against John Tyler with deepest scorn the mass of that conquering column which had swept over the land in 1840, and drove his Admin istration to seek shelter behind the lines of its political foes. Mr. Douglas achieved a victory scarcely less wonderful when in 1854, against the secret desires of a strong Administration, against the wise counsel of the older chiefs, against the conservative instincts and even the moral sense of the country, he forced a reluctant Congress into a repeal of the Missouri compromise. Mr. Thaddeus Stevens in his contests from 1865 to 1868 actually advanced his parliamentary leadership until Congress tied the hands of the President and governed the country by its own will, leaving only perfunctory duties to be discharged by the Executive. With two hundred millions of patronage in his hands at the opening of the contest, aided by the 133 active force of Sevvard in the Cabinet and the moral power of Chase on the bench, Andrew Johnson could not command the support of one-third in either House against the parliamentary uprising of which Thad- deus Stevens was the animating spirit and the unquestioned leader. From these three great men GARFIELD differed radically differed in the quality of his mind, in temperament, in the form and phase of ambition. He could not do what they did, but he could do what they could not, and in the breadth of his Congressional work he left that which will longer exert a potential influence among men, and which, measured by the severe test of posthumous criticism, will secure a more enduring and more enviable fame. Those unfamiliar with GARFIELD S indus try, and ignorant of the details of his work, may, in some degree, measure them by the 134 annals of Congress. No one of the genera tion of public men to which he belonged has contributed so much that will prove valuable for future reference. His speeches are numerous, many of them brilliant, all of them well studied, carefully phrased, and exhaustive of the subject under consideration. Collected from the scattered pages of ninety royal octavo volumes of Congressional rec ord, they would present an invaluable com pendium of the political events of the most important era through which the national Government has ever passed. When the his tory of this period shall be impartially written, when war legislation, measures of reconstruc tion, protection of human rights, amendments to the Constitution, maintenance of public credit, steps toward specie resumption, true theories of revenue may be reviewed unsur- rounded by prejudice and disconnected from partisanism, the speeches of GARFIELD will be estimated at their true value, and will be found to comprise a vast magazine of fact and argument, of clear analysis and sound conclusion. Indeed, if no other authority were accessible, his speeches in the House of Representatives from December, 1863, to June, 1880, would give a well-connected his tory and complete defense of the important legislation of the seventeen eventful years that constitute his parliamentary life. Far beyond that, his speeches would be found to forecast many great measures yet to be completed measures which he knew were beyond the public opinion of the hour, but which he confidently believed would secure popular approval within the period of his own lifetime and by the aid of his own efforts. Differing, as GARFIELD does, from the brilliant parliamentary leaders, it is not easy to find his counterpart anywhere in the record of American public life. He perhaps i 3 6 more nearly resembles Mr. Seward in his supreme faith in the all-conquering power of a principle. He had the love of learning and the patient industry of investigation to which John Quincy Adams owes his prominence and his Presidency. He had some of those ponderous elements of mind which distin guished Mr. Webster, and which, indeed, in all our public life have left the great Massa chusetts Senator without an intellectual peer. In English parliamentary history, as in our own, the leaders in the House of Com mons present points of essential difference from GARFIELD. But some of his methods recall the best features in the strong, inde pendent course of Sir Robert Peel, to whom he had striking resemblances in the type of his mind and in the habit of his speech. He had all of Burke 1 s love for the sublime and the beautiful, with, possibly, something of his superabundance. In his 137 faith and his magnanimity, in his power of statement, in his subtle analysis, in his faultless logic, in his love of literature, in his wealth and world of illustration, one is reminded of that great English statesman of to-day, who, confronted with obstacles that would daunt any but the dauntless, reviled by those whom he would relieve as bitterly as by those whose supposed rights he is forced to invade, still labors with serene courage for the amelioration of Ireland and for the honor of the English name. GARFIELD S nomination to the Presidency, while not predicted or anticipated, was not a surprise to the country. His prominence in Congress, his solid qualities, his wide repu tation, strengthened by his then recent elec tion as Senator from Ohio, kept him in the public eye as a man occupying the very highest rank among those entitled to be called statesmen. It was not mere chance 18 138 that brought him this high honor. "We must," says Mr. Emerson, "reckon success a constitutional trait. If Eric is in robust health and has slept well and is at the top of his condition, and thirty years old at his departure from Greenland, he will steer west and his ships will reach Newfoundland. But take Eric out and put in a stronger and bolder man and the ships will sail six hundred, one thousand, fifteen hundred miles farther and reach Labrador and New Eng land. There is no chance in results." As a candidate GARFIELD steadily grew in popular favor. He was met with a storm of detraction at the very hour of his nomi nation, and it continued with increasing volume and momentum until the close of his victorious campaign. No might nor greatness in mortality Can censure scape; back- wounding calumny The whitest virtue strikes. What king so strong Can tie the gall up in the slanderous tongue?" 139 Under it all he was calm and strong and confident; never lost his self-possession, did no unwise act, spoke no hasty or ill-consid ered word. Indeed, nothing in his whole life is more remarkable or more creditable than his bearing through those five full months of vituperation a prolonged agony of trial to a sensitive man, a constant and cruel draft upon the powers of moral endurance. The great mass of these unjust imputations passed unnoticed, and with the general de bris of the campaign fell into oblivion. But in a few instances the iron entered his soul and he died with the injury unforgotten if not unforgiven. One aspect of GARFIELD S candidacy was unprecedented. Never before, in the history of partisan contests in this country, had a successful Presidential candidate spoken freely on passing events and current issues. To attempt anything of the kind seemed 140 novel, rash, and even desperate. The older class of voters recalled the unfortunate Ala bama letter, in which Mr. Clay was supposed to have signed his political death warrant. They remembered also the hot-tempered effusion by which General Scott lost a large share of his popularity before his nomination, and the unfortunate speeches which rapidly consumed the remainder. The younger voters had seen Mr. Greeley in a series of vigorous and original addresses preparing the pathway for his own defeat. Unmindful of these warnings, unheeding the advice of friends, GARFIELD spoke to large crowds as he journeyed to and from New York in August, to a great multitude in that city, to delegations and deputations of every kind that called at Mentor during the summer and autumn. With innumerable critics, watchful and eager to catch a phrase that might be turned into odium or ridicule, or a sentence 141 that might be distorted to his own or his party s injury, GARFIELD did not trip or halt in any one of his seventy speeches. This seems all the more remarkable when it is remembered that he did not write what he said, and yet spoke with such logical con- secutiveness of thought and such admirable precision of phrase as to defy the accident of misreport and the malignity of misrepre sentation. In the beginning of his Presidential life GARFIELD S experience did not yield him pleasure or satisfaction. The duties that en gross so large a portion of the President s time were distasteful to him, and were unfa vorably contrasted with his legislative work. "I have been dealing all these years with ideas," he impatiently exclaimed one day, "and here I am dealing only with persons. I have been heretofore treating of the funda mental principles of government, and here I 142 am considering all day whether A or B shall be appointed to this or that office." He was earnestly seeking some practical way of cor recting the evils arising from the distribution of overgrown and unwieldy patronage evils always appreciated and often discussed by him, but whose magnitude had been more deeply impressed upon his mind since his accession to the Presidency. Had he lived, a comprehensive improvement in the mode of appointment and in the tenure of office would have been proposed by him, and with the aid of Congress no doubt perfected. But, while many of the Executive duties were not grateful to him, he was assiduous and conscientious in their discharge. From the very outset he exhibited administrative talent of a high order. He grasped the helm of office with the hand of a master. In this respect indeed he constantly surprised many who were most intimately associated with 143 him in the Government, and especially those who had feared that he might be lacking in the executive faculty. His disposition of business was orderly and rapid. His power of analysis and his skill in classification en abled him to dispatch a vast mass of detail with singular promptness and ease. His Cabinet meetings were admirably conducted. His clear presentation of official subjects, his well-considered suggestion of topics on which discussion was invited, his quick decision when all had been heard, combined to show a thoroughness of mental training as rare as his natural ability and his facile adaptation to a new and enlarged field of labor. With perfect comprehension of all the inheritances of the war, with a cool calcula tion of the obstacles in his way, impelled always by a generous enthusiasm, GARFIELD conceived that much might be done by his Administration toward restoring harmony i 4 4 between the different sections of the Union. He was anxious to go South and speak to the people. As early as April he had inef fectually endeavored to arrange for a trip to Nashville, whither he had been cordially invited, and he was again disappointed a few weeks later to find that he could not go to South Carolina to attend the centennial celebration of the victory of the Cowpens. But for the autumn he definitely counted on being present at three memorable assemblies in the South, the celebration at Yorktown, the opening of the Cotton Exposition at Atlanta, and the meeting of the Army of the Cum berland at Chattanooga. He was already turning over in his mind his address for each occasion, and the three taken together, he said to a friend, gave him the exact scope and verge which he needed. At Yorktown he would have before him the associations of a hundred years that bound the South 145 and the North in the sacred memory of a common danger and a common victory. At Atlanta he would present the material interests and the industrial development which appealed to the thrift and independ ence of every household, and which should unite the two sections by the instinct of self- interest and self-defense. At Chattanooga he would revive memories of the war only to show that after all its disaster and all its suf fering, the country was stronger and greater, the Union rendered indissoluble, and the future, through the agony and blood of one generation, made brighter and better for all. GARFIELD S ambition for the success of his Administration was high. With strong caution and conservatism in his nature, he was in no danger of attempting rash exper iments or of resorting to the empiricism of statesmanship. But he believed that re newed and closer attention should be given 19 146 to questions affecting the material interests and commercial prospects of fifty millions of people. He believed that our continental relations, extensive and undeveloped as they are, involved responsibility, and could be cultivated into profitable friendship or be abandoned to harmful indifference or lasting enmity. He believed with equal confidence that an essential forerunner to a new era of national progress must be a feeling of con tentment in every section of the Union, and a generous belief that the benefits and bur dens of government would be common to all. Himself a conspicuous illustration of what ability and ambition may do under republican institutions, he loved his country with a passion of patriotic devotion, and every waking thought was given to her advancement. He was an American in all his aspirations, and he looked to the destiny and influence of the United States with the 147 philosophic composure of Jefferson and the demonstrative confidence of John Adams. The political events which disturbed the President s serenity for many weeks before that fateful day in July form an important chapter in his career, and, in his own judg ment, involved questions of principle and of right which are vitally essential to the constitutional administration of the Federal Government. It would be out of place here and now to speak the language of contro versy; but the events referred to, however they may continue to be source of conten tion with others, have become, so far as GARFIELD is concerned, as much a matter of history as his heroism at Chickamauga or his illustrious service in the House. Detail is not needful, and personal antagonism shall not be rekindled by any word uttered to-day. The motives of those opposing him are not to be here adversely interpreted nor their 148 course harshly characterized. But of the dead President this is to be said, and said because his own speech is forever silenced and he can be no more heard except through the fidelity and love of surviving friends: from the beginning to the end of the con troversy he so much deplored, the Presi dent was never for one moment actuated by any motive of gain to himself or of loss to others. Least of all men did he harbor revenge, rarely did he even show resent ment, and malice was not in his nature. He was congenially employed only in the exchange of good offices and the doing of kindly deeds. There was not an hour, from the begin ning of the trouble till the fatal shot entered his body, when the President would not gladly, for the sake of restoring harmony, have retraced any step he had taken if such retracing had merely involved consequences 149 personal to himself. The pride of consist ency, or any supposed sense of humiliation that might result from surrendering his posi tion, had not a feather s weight with him. No man was ever less subject to such influences from within or from without. But after most anxious deliberation and the coolest survey of all the circumstances, he solemnly believed that the true prerogatives of the Executive were involved in the issue which had been raised, and that he would be unfaithful to his supreme obligation if he failed to maintain, in all their vigor, the constitutional rights and dignities of his great office. He believed this in all the convictions of conscience when in sound and vigorous health, and he believed it in his suffering and prostration in the last conscious thought which his wearied mind bestowed on the transitory struggles of life. More than this need not be said. Less than this could not be said. Justice to the dead, the highest obligation that devolves upon the living, demands the declaration that in all the bearings of the subject, actual or possible, the President was content in his mind, justified in his conscience, immovable in his conclusions. The religious element in GARFIELD S character was deep and earnest. In his early youth he espoused the faith of the Disciples, a sect of that great Baptist com munion which in different ecclesiastical estab lishments is so numerous and so influential throughout all parts of the United States. But the broadening tendency of his mind and his active spirit of inquiry were early appar ent and carried him beyond the dogmas of sect and the restraints of association. In selecting a college in which to continue his education he rejected Bethany, though presided over by Alexander Campbell, the greatest preacher of his church. His rea sons were characteristic: first, that Bethany leaned too heavily toward slavery; and, sec ond, that being himself a Disciple and the son of Disciple parents, he had little acquaint ance with people of other beliefs, and he thought it would make him more liberal, quoting his own words, both in his religious and general views, to go into a new circle and be under new influences. The liberal tendency which he anticipated as the result of wider culture was fully real ized. He was emancipated from mere sec tarian belief, and with eager interest pushed his investigations in the direction of mod ern progressive thought. He followed with quickening step in the paths of exploration and speculation so fearlessly trodden by Darwin, by Huxley, by Tyndall, and by other living scientists of the radical and advanced type. His own church, binding its 152 disciples by no formulated creed, but accept ing the Old and New Testaments as the word of God, with unbiased liberality of private interpretation, favored, if it did not stimulate, the spirit of investigation. Its members pro fess with sincerity, and profess only, to be of one mind and one faith with those who immediately followed the Master, and who were first called Christians at Antioch. But however high GARFIELD reasoned of "fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge abso lute," he was never separated from the Church of the Disciples in his affections and in his associations. For him it held the Ark of the Covenant. To him it was the gate of Heaven. The world of religious belief is full of solecisms and contradictions. A philosophic observer declares that men by the thousand will die in defense of a creed whose doctrines they do not comprehend and whose tenets they habitually violate. It is equally true that men by the thousand will cling to church organizations with instinctive and undying fidelity when their belief in maturer years is radically different from that which inspired them as neophytes. But after this range of speculation and this latitude of doubt GARFIELD came back always with freshness and delight to the simpler instincts of religious faith, which, earliest implanted, longest survive. Not many weeks before his assassination, walk ing on the banks of the Potomac with a friend, and conversing on those topics of personal religion concerning which noble natures have an unconquerable reserve, he said that he found the Lord s Prayer and the simple petitions learned in infancy infinitely restful to him, not merely in their stated repetition, but in their casual and frequent recall as he went about the daily duties of life. Certain texts of Scripture had a very strong hold on his memory and his heart. He heard, while in Edinburgh some years ago, an eminent Scotch preacher who pre faced his sermon with reading the eighth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans, which book had been the subject of careful study with GARFIELD during all his religious life. He was greatly impressed by the elocution of the preacher and declared that it had imparted a new and deeper meaning to the majestic utterance of St. Paul. He referred often in after years to that memorable serv ice, and dwelt with exaltation of feeling upon the radiant promise and the assured hope with which the great apostle of the Gentiles was "persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." I 55 The crowning characteristic of General GARFIELD S religious opinions, as, indeed, of all his opinions, was his liberality. In all things he had charity. Tolerance was of his nature. He respected in others the qualities which he possessed himself sincerity of con viction and frankness of expression. With him the inquiry was not so much what a man believes, but does he believe it? The lines of his friendship and his confidence encircled men of every creed and men of no creed, and to the end of his life, on his ever lengthening list of friends, were to be found the names of a pious Catholic priest and of an honest- minded and generous-hearted freethinker. On the morning of Saturday, July second, the President was a contented and happy man not in an ordinary degree, but joy fully, almost boyishly happy. On his way to the railroad station, to which he drove slowly, in conscious enjoyment of the beautiful 156 morning, with an unwonted sense of leisure and a keen anticipation of pleasure, his talk was all in the grateful and gratulatory vein. He felt that after four months of trial his Administration was strong in its grasp of affairs, strong in popular favor, and destined to grow stronger; that grave difficulties con fronting him at his inauguration had been safely passed; that trouble lay behind him and not before him; that he was soon to meet the wife whom he loved, now recover ing from an illness which had but lately disquieted and at times almost unnerved him; that he was going to his Alma Mater to renew the most cherished associations of his young manhood, and to exchange greetings with those whose deepening interest had fol lowed every step of his upward progress from the day he entered upon his college course until he had attained the loftiest elevation in the gift of his countrymen. 157 Surely, if happiness can ever come from the honors or triumphs of this world, on that quiet July morning JAMES A. GARFIELD may well have been a happy man. No foreboding of evil haunted him; no slightest premonition of danger clouded his sky. His terrible fate was upon him in an instant. One moment he stood erect, strong, confident in the years stretching peacefully out before him; the next he lay wounded, bleeding, helpless, doomed to weary weeks of torture, to silence, and the grave. Great in life, he was surpassingly great in death. For no cause, in the very frenzy of wantonness and wickedness, by the red hand of murder, he was thrust from the full tide of this world s interest, from its hopes, its aspirations, its victories, into the visible presence of death and he did not quail. Not alone for the one short moment in which, stunned and dazed, he could give up 158 life, hardly aware of its relinquishment, but through days of deadly languor, through weeks of agony that was not less agony because silently borne, with clear sight and calm courage, he looked into his open grave. What blight and ruin met his anguished eyes, whose lips may tell? What brilliant, broken plans; what baffled, high ambitions; what sundering of strong, warm, manhood s friendships; what bitter rending of sweet household ties ! Behind him, a proud, ex pectant Nation, a great host of sustaining friends; a cherished and happy mother, wear ing the full, rich honors of her early toil and tears; the wife of his youth, whose whole life lay in his; the little boys not yet emerged from childhood s day of frolic; the fair young daughter; the sturdy sons just springing into closest companionship, claim ing every day and every day rewarding a father s love and care; and in his heart the 159 eager, rejoicing power to meet all demand. Before him, desolation and great darkness! And his soul was not shaken. His country men were thrilled with instant, profound, and universal sympathy. Masterful in his mortal weakness, he became the center of a Nation s love, enshrined in the prayers of a world. But all the love and all the sympa thy could not share with him his suffering. He trod the wine press alone. With unfal tering front he faced death. With unfailing tenderness he took leave of life. Above the demoniac hiss of the assassin s bullet he heard the voice of God. With simple resig nation he bowed to the Divine decree. As the end drew near, his early craving for the sea returned. The stately mansion of power had been to him the wearisome hospital of pain, and he begged to be taken from its prison walls, from its oppressive, stifling air, from its homelessness and its i6o hopelessness. Gently, silently, the love of a great people bore the pale sufferer to the longed-for healing of the sea, to live or to die, as God should will, within sight of its heaving billows, within sound of its mani fold voices. With wan, fevered face tenderly lifted to the cooling breeze, he looked out wistfully upon the ocean s changing wonders; on its far sails, whitening in the morning light; on its restless waves, rolling shore ward to break and die beneath the noonday sun; on the red clouds of evening, arching low to the horizon; on the serene and shin ing pathway of the stars. Let us think that his dying eyes read a mystic meaning which only the rapt and parting soul may know. Let us believe that in the silence of the receding world he heard the great waves breaking on a farther shore, and felt already upon his wasted brow the breath of the eternal morning. APPENDIX 21 PROCEEDINGS IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. MONDAY, February 27, 1882. The House met at twelve o clock m. Prayer by the Chaplain, Rev. F. D. Power. The Speaker announced that this day had been dedicated by the action of the two Houses of Congress to services in commemo ration of the life and death of JAMES ABRAM GARFIELD, late President of the United States. This action was taken through the adoption of concurrent resolutions by the unanimous vote of the two Houses, pre sented by a select joint committee appointed "to consider and report by what token of respect, esteem, and affection it may be proper for Congress to express its and the 163 164 Nation s deep sensibility over the event of the decease of our late President." The Clerk read the following concurrent resolutions adopted by both Houses of Con gress December 21, 1881: "Whereas the melancholy event of the violent and tragic death of JAMES ABRAM GARFIELD, late President of the United States, having occurred during the recess of Congress, and the two Houses sharing in the general grief and desiring to manifest their sensibility upon the occasion of the public bereavement: Therefore, "Be it resolved by the House of Represent atives (the Senate concurring], That the two Houses of Congress will assemble in the Hall of the House of Representatives on a day and hour to be fixed and announced by the joint committee, and that in the pres ence of the two Houses there assembled an address upon the life and character of JAMES ABRAM GARFIELD, late President of the United States, be pronounced by Hon. James G. Elaine, and that the President of the Senate PYO tcrnpore and the Speaker of the House of Representatives be requested to invite the President and ex-Presidents of the United States, the heads of the several Departments, the Judges of the Supreme Court, the representatives of the foreign Governments near this Government, the governors of the several States, the General of the Army and the Admiral of the Navy, and such officers of the Army and Navy as have received the thanks of Congress who may then be at the seat of government, to be present on the occasion. "And be it further resolved, That the President of the United States be requested to transmit a copy of these resolutions to Mrs. Lucretia R. Garfield, and to assure her of the profound sympathy of the two Houses 1 66 of Congress for her deep personal affliction, and of their sincere condolence for the late national bereavement." The Clerk also read the following concur rent resolution adopted by both Houses of Congress February i, 1882: "Resolved by the Hoiise of Representatives (the Senate concurring], That Monday, the twenty-seventh day of February, 1882, be set apart for the memorial services upon the late President, JAMES A. GARFIELD." The following programme of arrange ments prepared by the joint committee of both Houses was carried out: The Capitol will be closed on the morning of the twenty-seventh to all except the mem bers and officers of Congress. At ten o clock the east door leading to the Rotunda will be opened to those to whom invitations have been extended under the joint resolution of Congress by the Presiding i6 7 Officers of the t\vo Houses, and to those holding tickets of admission to the galleries. The Hall of the House of Represent atives will be opened for the admission of Representatives and to those who have invi tations, who will be conducted to the seats assigned to them, as follows: The President and ex-Presidents of the United States and special guests will be seated in front of the Speaker. * The Chief Justice and Associate Justices of the Supreme Court will occupy seats next to the President and ex-Presidents and special guests, on the right of the Speaker. The Cabinet officers, the General of the Army and the Admiral of the Navy, and the officers of the Army and Navy who, by name, have received the thanks of Con gress will occupy seats on the left of the Speaker. The chief justice and judges of the Court i68 of Claims and the chief justice and associate justices of the supreme court of the District of Columbia will occupy seats directly in the rear of the Supreme Court. The diplomatic corps will occupy the front row of seats. Ex- Vice -Presidents, Senators, and ex- Senators will occupy seats in the second, third, fourth, and fifth rows, on the east side of the main aisle. Representatives will occupy seats on the west side of the main aisle and in the rear of the Senators on the east side. Commissioners of the District, governors of States and Territories, assistant heads of Departments, and invited guests will occupy seats in the rear of Representatives. The Executive gallery will be reserved exclusively for the families of the Supreme Court and the families of the Cabinet and the invited guests of the President. Tickets 169 thereto will be delivered to the private secre tary of the President. The diplomatic gallery will be reserved exclusively for the families of the members of the diplomatic corps. Tickets thereto will be delivered to the Secretary of State. The reporters gallery will be reserved exclusively for the use of the reporters for the press. Tickets thereto will be delivered to the press committee. The official reporters of the Senate and of the House will occupy the reporters desk in front of the Clerk s table. The House of Representatives will be called to order by the Speaker at twelve o clock. The Marine Band will be in attendance. The Senate will assemble at twelve o clock, and immediately after prayer will proceed to the Hall of the House of Rep resentatives. 170 The diplomatic corps will meet at half past eleven o clock in the Representatives lobby, and be conducted by the Sergeant- at-Arms of the House to the seats assigned to them. The President of the Senate will occupy the Speaker s chair. The Speaker of the House will occupy a seat at the left of the President of the Senate. The Chaplains of the Senate and of the House will occupy seats next to the Presid ing Officers of their respective Houses. The chairmen of the joint committee of arrangements will occupy seats at the right and left of the Orator, and next to them will be seated the Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House. The other officers of the Senate and the House will occupy seats on the floor at the right and the left of the Speaker s platform. Prayer will be offered by Rev. F. D. Power, Chaplain of the House of Representatives. The presiding officer will then present the Orator of the day. The benediction will be pronounced by the Rev. J. J. Bullock, Chaplain of the Senate. By reason of the limited capacity of the galleries the number of tickets is necessarily restricted, and will be distributed as follows: To each Senator, Representative, and Delegate, three tickets. No person will be admitted to the Capitol except on presentation of a ticket, which will be good only for the place indicated. The Architect of the Capitol and the Sergeant -at -Arms of the Senate and Ser geant -at -Arms of the House are charged with the execution of these arrangements. JOHN SHERMAN, WILLIAM McKiNLEY, Jr., Chairmen Joint Committee. 172 Hon. David Davis, President pro tempore of the Senate, called the two Houses to order. Rev. F. D. Power, Chaplain of the House of Representatives, offered prayer as follows: "O Lord our God, we thank Thee for this hour and for this service. We thank Thee for a great life given to this Nation; for its genius and potencies; for its ex ample and memories; for its immortality and eternity. May this Republic never for get its dead. "As we come together this day to recall the wisdom, the integrity, the statesman ship, the loyalty, the reverence for Thee and Thy Word, the unselfish love for country and for all mankind, wherewith Thou didst endow Thy servant and fit him for the administration of the affairs of the Govern ment; as we meditate upon the patience, the sweetness, the fortitude, the faith, the 173 quiet resignation to Thy will wherewith Thou didst fit him for his sore trial; as we remember his triumph and our sorrow, grant us Thy gracious benediction. "We bear, during this memorial service, our Father, before Thee, on our hearts, his loved ones with whom we weep. Sustain, we beseech Thee, the mother who bore him. May the peace of God, that passeth all under standing, be the strength and the crown of her spirit. Be very merciful to the wife in her present separation from the husband of her youth. May she rest in God, and may she find such sympathy and joy in her Saviour as the world can not give nor take away. Be a father to the children now fatherless, and may they imitate the virtues of their illustrious parent, and like him be useful in living and mourned in dying. May the youth of this land and of all lands feel the power of his example and follow in his footsteps. May 174 those who rule among us and among men everywhere by the study of his virtues be incited to like patriotism and piety. "Now we ask thy blessing on this assem bly. May the remembrance of this great life be a genuine help to all those present and that greater audience waiting without. Give grace and utterance to Thy servant who shall speak to us. May his words be wise and worthy and fitly chosen, like apples of gold in pictures of silver. "Remember Thy servant before Thee, the President of the United States. Preserve him from evil influences and evil men. May truth rest upon his brow, wisdom upon his lips, justice in his hands, and grace in his heart. Bless his counselors, this Congress assembled, our magistrates and judges, our Army and Navy, our schools and churches, our whole land and all the inhabitants thereof. 175 "May we keep alive in us the faith and virtue of those who have passed before. Give peace in our time. Make religion and righteousness, truth and justice, knowledge and freedom to abound everywhere. May Thy name be glorified and Thy kingdom rule over us from sea to sea. "We ask it all reverently, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." The President pro tempore of the Sen ate said: "Senators and Representatives, this day is dedicated by Congress for me morial services upon the late President, JAMES A. GARFIELD. I present to you Hon. James G. Elaine, who has been fitly chosen as the Orator for this historical occasion." Mr. Elaine (who was greeted with hearty applause) delivered the memorial address. i 7 6 Upon its conclusion Rev. J. J. Bullock, Chaplain of the Senate, pronounced the benediction as follows: "May the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keep your minds and hearts in the knowledge and love of God and His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. And the bless ing of God Almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, rest upon and remain with you, now and forevermore. Amen." The President and his Cabinet, the Chief Justice and Associate Justices of the Supreme Court, and other invited guests then retired from the Hall; after which the Senate returned to their Chamber. MEMORIAL ADDRESS ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF WILLIAM McKINLEY BY HON. JOHN HAY DELIVERED BEFORE THE TWO HOUSES OF CONGRESS, FEBRUARY 27, 1902 77 WILLIAM McKlNLEY. Once more, and for the third time, the Congress of the United States are assembled to commemorate the life and the death of a President slain by the hand of an assassin. The attention of the future historian will be attracted to the features which reappear with startling sameness in all three of these awful crimes: the uselessness, the utter lack of consequence of the act; the obscurity, the insignificance of the criminal; the blame- lessness so far as in our sphere of existence the best of men may be held blameless of the victim. Not one of our murdered Presidents should have had an enemy in the world; they were all of such preeminent 179 i8o purity of life that no pretext could be given for the attack of passional crime; they were all men of democratic instincts who could never have offended the most jealous advo cates of equality; they were of kindly and generous nature, to whom wrong or injus tice was impossible; of moderate fortune, whose slender means nobody could envy. They were men of austere virtue, of tender heart, of eminent abilities, which they had devoted with single minds to the good of the Republic. If ever men walked before God and man without blame, it was these three rulers of our people. The only temp tation to attack their lives offered was their gentle radiance: to eyes hating the light that was offense enough. The stupid uselessness of such an infamy affronts the common sense of the world. One can conceive how the death of a dicta tor may change the political conditions of an empire; how the extinction of a narrowing line of kings may bring in an alien dynasty. But in a well-ordered Republic like ours, the ruler may fall, but the state feels no tremor. Our beloved and revered leader is gone; but the natural process of our laws provides us a successor, identical in purpose and ideals, nourished by the same teachings, inspired by the same principles, pledged by tender affec tion as well as by high loyalty to carry to completion the immense task committed to his hands, and to smite with iron severity every manifestation of that hideous crime which his mild predecessor, with his dying breath, forgave. The sayings of celestial wisdom have no date; the words that reach us, over two thousand years, out of the darkest hour of gloom the world has ever known, are true to the life to-day: "They know not what they do." The blow struck at our dear friend and ruler was as deadly i8a as blind hate could make it; but the blow struck at anarchy was deadlier still. What a world of insoluble problems such an event excites in the mind ! Not merely in its personal, but in its public aspects, it pre sents a paradox not to be comprehended. Under a system of government so free and so impartial that we recognize its existence only by its benefactions; under a social order so purely democratic that classes can not exist in it, affording opportunities so uni versal that even conditions are as changing as the winds, where the laborer of to-day is the capitalist of to-morrow; under laws which are the result of ages of evolution, so uniform and so beneficent that the President has just the same rights and privileges as the artisan, we see the same hellish growth of hatred and murder which dogs equally the footsteps of benevolent monarchs and blood-stained des pots. How many countries can join with us in the community of a kindred sorrow! I will not speak of those distant regions where assassination enters into the daily life of gov ernment. But among the nations bound to us by the ties of familiar intercourse who can forget that wise and high-minded auto crat who had earned the proud title of the Liberator, that enlightened and magnanimous citizen whom France still mourns, that brave and chivalrous King of Italy who only lived for his people, and, saddest of all, that lovely and sorrowing Empress whose harmless life could hardly have excited the animosity of a demon? Against that devilish spirit noth ing avails neither virtue, nor patriotism, nor age nor youth, nor conscience nor pity. We can not even say that education is a sufficient safeguard against this baleful evil, for most of the wretches whose crimes have so shocked humanity in recent years are men not unlettered, who have gone from 1 84 the common schools, through murder, to the scaffold. Our minds can not discern the origin nor conceive the extent of wickedness so perverse and so cruel; but this does not exempt us from the duty of trying to control and counteract it. We do not understand what electricity is; whence it comes or what its hidden properties may be. But we know it as a mighty force for good or evil and so with the painful toil of years, men of learn ing and skill have labored to store and to subjugate it, to neutralize and even to employ its destructive energies. This prob lem of anarchy is dark and intricate, but it ought to be within the compass of demo cratic government although no sane mind can fathom the mysteries of these untracked and orbitless natures to guard against their aberrations, to take away from them the hope of escape, the long luxury of scandalous days in court, the unwholesome sympathy of hysterical degenerates, and so by degrees to make the crime not worth committing, even to these abnormal and distorted souls. It would be presumptuous for me in this presence to suggest the details of remedial legislation for a malady so malignant. That task may safely be left to the skill and patience of the national Congress, which have never been found unequal to any such emer gency. The country believes that the mem ory of three murdered comrades of yours, all of whose voices still haunt these walls, will be a sufficient inspiration to enable you to solve even this abstruse and painful prob lem, which has dimmed so many pages of history with blood and with tears. Before an audience less sympathetic than this, I should not dare to speak of that great career which we have met to commemorate. But we are all his friends, and friends do not 24 1 86 criticise each other s words about an open grave. I thank you for the honor you have done me in inviting me here, and not less for the kind forbearance I know I shall have from you in my most inadequate efforts to speak of him worthily. The life of WILLIAM McKiNLEY was, from his birth to his death, typically Amer ican. There is no environment, I should say, anywhere else in the world which could produce just such a character. He was born into that way of life which elsewhere is called the middle class, but which in this country is so nearly universal as to make of other classes an almost negligible quantity. He was neither rich nor poor, neither proud nor humble; he knew no hunger he was not sure of satisfying, no luxury which could enervate mind or body. His parents were sober, God-fearing people; intelligent and upright; without pretension and without i8 7 humility. He grew up in the company of boys like himself wholesome, honest, self- respecting. They looked down on nobody; they never felt it possible they could be looked down upon. Their houses were the homes of probity, piety, patriotism. They learned in the admirable school readers of fifty years ago the lessons of heroic and splendid life which have come down from the past. They read in their weekly news papers the story of the world s progress, in which they were eager to take part, and of the sins and wrongs of civilization, with which they burned to do battle. It was a serious and thoughtful time. The boys of that day felt dimly, but deeply, that days of sharp struggle and high achievement were before them. They looked at life with the wondering yet resolute eyes of a young esquire in his vigil of arms. They felt a time was coming when to them should i88 be addressed the stern admonition of the Apostle: "Quit you like men; be strong." It is not easy to give to those of a later generation any clear idea of that extraordi nary spiritual awakening which passed over the country at the first red signal fires of the civil war. It was not our earliest apoc alypse; a hundred years before the Nation had been revealed to itself, when after long discussion and much searching of heart the people of the colonies had resolved that to live without liberty was worse than to die, and had therefore wagered in the solemn game of war "their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor." In a stress of heat and labor unutterable, the country had been hammered and welded together; but there after for nearly a century there had been nothing in our life to touch the innermost fountain of feeling and devotion. We had had rumors of wars even wars we had had, 189 not without sacrifices and glory but noth ing which went to the vital self-consciousness of the country, nothing which challenged the Nation s right to live. But in 1860 the Nation was going down into the Valley of Decision. The question which had been debated on thousands of platforms, which had been discussed in countless publications, which, thundered from innumerable pulpits, had caused in their congregations the bitter strife and dissension to which only cases of conscience can give rise, was everywhere pressing for solution. And not merely in the various channels of publicity was it alive and clamorous. About every fireside in the land, in the conversation of friends and neighbors, and, deeper still, in the secret of millions of human hearts, the battle of opinion was waging; and all men felt and saw with more or less clearness that an answer to the importunate question, Shall i go the Nation live? was due, and not to be denied. And I do not mean that in the North alone there was this austere wrestling with conscience. In the South as well, below all the effervescence and excitement of a people perhaps more given to eloquent speech than we were, there was the profound agony of question and answer, the summons to decide whether honor and freedom did not call them to revolution and war. It is easy for partisanship to say that the one side was right and that the other was wrong. It is still easier for an indolent magnanimity to say that both were right. Perhaps in the wide view of ethics one is always right to follow his conscience, though it lead him to disaster and death. But history is inexorable. She takes no account of sentiment and intention; and in her cold and luminous eyes that side is right which fights in harmony with the stars in their courses. The men are right through whose efforts and struggles the world is helped onward, and humanity moves to a higher level and a brighter day. The men who are living to-day and who were young in 1860 will never forget the glory and glamour that filled the earth and the sky when the long twilight of doubt and uncertainty was ending and the time of action had come. A speech by Abraham Lincoln was an event not only of high moral signifi cance, but of far-reaching importance; the drilling of a militia company by Ellsworth attracted national attention; the fluttering of the flag in the clear sky drew tears from the eyes of young men. Patriotism, which had been a rhetorical expression, became a pas sionate emotion, in which instinct, logic, and feeling were fused. The country was worth saving; it could be saved only by fire; no sacrifice was too great; the young men of the 192 country were ready for the sacrifice; come weal, come woe, they were ready. At seventeen years of age WILLIAM McKiNLEY heard this summons of his coun try. He was the sort of youth to whom a military life in ordinary times would possess no attractions. His nature was far different from that of the ordinary soldier. He had other dreams of life, its prizes and pleasures, than that of marches and battles. But to his mind there was no choice or question. The banner floating in the morning breeze was the beckoning gesture of his country. The thrilling notes of the trumpet called him him and none other into the ranks. His portrait in his first uniform is familiar to you all the short, stocky figure; the quiet, thoughtful face; the deep, dark eyes. It is the face of the lad who could not stay at home when he thought he was needed in the field. He was of the stuff of which good 193 soldiers are made. Had he been ten years older he would have entered at the head of a company and come out at the head of a division. But he did what he could. He enlisted as a private; he learned to obey. His serious, sensible ways, his prompt, alert efficiency soon attracted the attention of his superiors. He was so faithful in little things they gave him more and more to do. He was untiring in camp and on the march; swift, cool, and fearless in fight. He left the Army with field rank when the war ended, brevetted by President Lincoln for gallantry in battle. In coming years when men seek to draw the moral of our great civil war nothing will seem to them so admirable in all the history of our two magnificent armies as the way in which the war came to a close. When the Confederate army saw the time had come, they acknowledged the pitiless logic of facts, 25 194 and ceased fighting. When the army of the Union saw it was no longer needed, without a murmur or question, making no terms, asking no return, in the flush of victory and fullness of might, it laid down its arms and melted back into the mass of peaceful citi zens. There is no event, since the Nation was born, which has so proved its solid capacity for self-government. Both sections share equally in that crown of glory. They had held a debate of incomparable impor tance and had fought it out with equal energy. A conclusion had been reached and it is to the everlasting honor of both sides that they each knew when the war was over, and the hour of a lasting peace had struck. We may admire the desperate daring of others who prefer annihilation to compromise, but the palm of common sense, and, I will say, of enlightened patriotism, belongs to the men like Grant and Lee, 195 who knew when they had fought enough, for honor and for country. WILLIAM McKiNLEY, one of that sensi ble million of men, gladly laid down his sword and betook himself to his books. He quickly made up the time lost in soldiering. He attacked his Blackstone as he would have done a hostile intrenchment; finding the range of a country law library too nar row, he went to the Albany Law School, where he worked energetically with brilliant success; was admitted to the bar and settled down to practice -a brevetted veteran of twenty-four in the quiet town of Canton, now and henceforward forever famous as the scene of his life and his place of sepul ture. Here many blessings awaited him: high repute, professional success, and a domestic affection so pure, so devoted and stainless that future poets, seeking an ideal of Christian marriage, will find in it a theme 196 worthy of their songs. This is a subject to which the lightest allusion seems profanation; but it is impossible to speak of WILLIAM McKiNLEY without remembering that no truer, tenderer knight to his chosen lady ever lived among mortal men. If to the spirits of the just made perfect is permitted the consciousness of earthly things, we may be sure that his faithful soul is now watching over that gentle sufferer who counts the long hours in their shattered home in the desolate splendor of his fame. A man possessing the qualities with which nature had endowed McKiNLEY seeks politi cal activity as naturally as a growing plant seeks light and air. A wholesome ambition; a rare power of making friends and keeping them; a faith, which may be called religious, in his country and its institutions; and, flowing from this, a belief that a man could do no nobler work than to serve such a country these were the elements in his character that drew him irresistibly into public life. He had from the beginning a remarkable equipment: a manner of singular grace and charm; a voice of ringing quality and great carrying power vast as were the crowds that gathered about him, he reached their utmost fringe without apparent effort. He had an extraordinary power of marshal ing and presenting significant facts, so as to bring conviction to the average mind. His range of reading was not wide; he read only what he might some day find useful, and what he read his memory held like brass. Those who knew him well in those early days can never forget the consummate skill and power with which he would select a few pointed facts, and, blow upon blow, would hammer them into the attention of great assemblages in Ohio, as Jael drove the nail into the head of the Canaanite 198 captain. He was not often impassioned; he rarely resorted to the aid of wit or humor; yet I never saw his equal in con trolling and convincing a popular audience by sheer appeal to their reason and intelli gence. He did not flatter or cajole them, but there was an implied compliment in the serious and sober tone in which he addressed them. He seemed one of them; in heart and feeling he was one of them. Each workingman in a great crowd might say: "That is the sort of man I would like to be, and under more favoring circumstances might have been." He had the divine gift of sympathy, which, though given only to the elect, makes all men their friends. So it came naturally about that in 1876 the beginning of the second century of the Republic he began, by an election to Con gress, his political career. Thereafter for fourteen years this Chamber was his home. i 9 9 I use the word advisedly. Nowhere in the world was he so in harmony with his envi ronment as here; nowhere else did his mind work with such full consciousness of its powers. The air of debate was native to him; here he drank delight of battle with his peers. In after days, when he drove by this stately pile, or when on rare occasions his duty called him here, he greeted his old haunts with the affectionate zest of a child of the house; during all the last ten years of his life, filled as they were with activity and glory, he never ceased to be homesick for this Hall. When he came to the Presidency there was not a day when his Congressional service was not of use to him. Probably no other President has been in such full and cordial communion with Congress, if we may except Lincoln alone. McKiNLEY knew the legislative body thoroughly its composition, its methods, its habits of thought. He had 200 the profoundest respect for its authority and an inflexible belief in the ultimate rectitude of its judgments. Our history shows how surely an Executive courts disaster and ruin by assuming an attitude of hostility or dis trust to the Legislature; and, on the other hand, McKiNLEY s frank and sincere trust and confidence in Congress were repaid by prompt and loyal support and cooperation. During his entire term of office this mutual trust and regard so essential to the public welfare was never shadowed by a single cloud. He was a Republican. He could not be anything else. A Union soldier grafted upon a Clay Whig, he necessarily believed in the "American system" in protection to home industries; in a strong, aggressive nationality; in a liberal construction of the Constitution. What any self-reliant nation might rightly do, he felt this Nation had power to do, if 2OI required by the common welfare and not prohibited by our written charter. Following the natural bent of his mind, he devoted himself to questions of finance and revenue, to the essentials of the national housekeeping. He took high rank in the House from the beginning. His readiness in debate, his mastery of every subject he handled, the bright and amiable light he shed about him, and above all the unfailing courtesy and good will with which he treated friend and foe alike one of the surest sig natures of a nature born to great destinies- made his service in the House a pathway of unbroken success and brought him at last to the all-important post of chairman of Ways and Means and leader of the majority. Of the famous revenue act which, in that capac ity, he framed and carried through Congress, it is not my purpose here and now to speak. The embers of the controversy in the midst 202 of which that law had its troubled being are yet too warm to be handled on a day like this. I may only say that it was never sufficiently tested to prove the praises of its friends or the criticism of its opponents. After a brief existence it passed away, for a time, in the storm that swept the Republi cans out of power. McKiNLEY also passed through a brief zone of shadow, his Con gressional district having been rearranged for that purpose by a hostile legislature. Someone has said it is easy to love our enemies; they help us so much more than our friends. The people whose malevolent skill had turned McKiNLEY out of Congress deserved well of him and of the Republic. Never was Nemesis more swift and ener getic. The Republicans of Ohio were saved the trouble of choosing a governor the other side had chosen one for them. A year after McKiNLEY left Congress he was made 203 governor of Ohio, and two years later he was reelected, each time by majorities unhoped for and overwhelming. He came to fill a space in the public eye which obscured a great portion of the field of vision. In two national conventions the Presidency seemed within his reach. But he had gone there in the interest of others and his honor forbade any dalliance with temptation. So his nay was nay delivered with a tone and gesture there was no denying. His hour was not yet come. There was, however, no long delay. He became, from year to year, the most prom inent politician and orator in the country. Passionately devoted to the principles of his party, he was always ready to do anything, to go anywhere, to proclaim its ideas and to support its candidates. His face and his voice became familiar to millions of our peo ple; and wherever they were seen and heard, 204 men became his partisans. His face was cast in a classic mold; you see faces like it in antique marble in the galleries of the Vatican and in the portraits of the great cardinal- statesmen of Italy; his voice was the voice of the perfect orator ringing, vibrating, tire less, persuading by its very sound, by its accent of sincere conviction. So prudent and so guarded were all his utterances, so lofty his courtesy, that he never embar rassed his friends, and never offended his opponents. For several months before the Republican National Convention met in 1896, it was evident to all who had eyes to see that Mr. McKiNLEY was the only probable candidate of his party. Other names were mentioned, of the highest rank in ability, character, and popularity; they were sup ported by powerful combinations; but the nomination of McKiNLEY as against the field was inevitable. 205 The campaign he made will be always memorable in our political annals. He and his friends had thought that the issue for the year was the distinctive and historic differ ence between the two parties on the subject of the tariff. To this wager of battle the dis cussions of the previous four years distinctly pointed. But no sooner had the two par ties made their nominations than it became evident that the opposing candidate declined to accept the field of discussion chosen by the Republicans, and proposed to put forward as the main issue the free and unlimited coin age of silver. McKiNLEY at once accepted this challenge, and, taking the battle for protection as already won, went with energy into the discussion of the theories presented by his opponents. He had wisely concluded not to leave his home during the canvass, thus avoiding a proceeding which has always been of sinister augury in our politics; but 206 from the front porch of his modest house in Canton he daily addressed the delegations which came from every part of the coun try to greet him in a series of speeches so strong, so varied, so pertinent, so full of facts briefly set forth, of theories embodied in a sin gle phrase, that they formed the hourly text for the other speakers of his party, and give probably the most convincing proof we have of his surprising fertility of resource and flex ibility of mind. All this was done without anxiety or strain. I remember a day I spent with him during that busy summer. He had made nineteen speeches the day before; that day he made many. But in the intervals of these addresses he sat in his study and talked, with nerves as quiet and a mind as free from care as if we had been spending a holiday at the seaside or among the hills. When he came to the Presidency he confronted a situation of the utmost difficulty, 207 which might well have appalled a man of less serene and tranquil self-confidence. There had been a state of profound commercial and industrial depression, from which his friends had said his election would relieve the country. Our relations with the out side world left much to be desired. The feeling between the Northern and Southern sections of the Union was lacking in the cordiality which was necessary to the wel fare of both. Hawaii had asked for annexa tion and had been rejected by the preceding Administration. There was a state of things in the Caribbean which could not perma nently endure. Our neighbor s house was on fire, and there were grave doubts as to our rights and duties in the premises. A man either weak or rash, either irresolute or headstrong, might have brought ruin on himself and incalculable harm to the country. 208 Again I crave the pardon of those who differ with me, if, against all my intentions, I happen to say a word which may seem to them unbefitting the place and hour. But I am here to give the opinion which his friends entertained of President McKiNLEY, of course claiming no immunity from criticism in what I shall say. I believe, then, that the verdict of history will be that he met all these grave questions with perfect valor and incomparable ability; that in grappling with them he rose to the full height of a great occasion, in a man ner which redounded to the lasting benefit of the country and to his own immortal honor. The least desirable form of glory to a man of his habitual mood and temper that of successful war was nevertheless conferred upon him by uncontrollable events. He felt the conflict must come; he deplored its ne cessity; he strained almost to breaking his relations with his friends, in order, first, if it 2OQ might be, to prevent and then to postpone it to the latest possible moment. But when the die was cast, he labored with the utmost energy and ardor, and with an intelligence in military matters which showed how much of the soldier still survived in the mature statesman to push fonvard the war to a decisive close. War was an anguish to him; he wanted it short and conclusive. His mer ciful zeal communicated itself to his sub ordinates, and the war, so long dreaded, whose consequences were so momentous, ended in a hundred days. Mr. Stedman, the dean of our poets, has called him "Augmenter of the State." It is a noble title; if justly conferred, it ranks him among the few whose names may be placed definitely and forever in charge of the historic Muse. Under his rule Hawaii has come to us, and Tutuila; Porto Rico and the vast archipelago of the East. Cuba is free. Our 2IO position in the Caribbean is assured beyond the possibility of future question. The doc trine called by the name of Monroe, so long derided and denied by alien publicists, evokes now no challenge or contradiction when uttered to the world. It has become an international truism. Our sister Republics to the south of us are convinced that we desire only their peace and prosperity. Europe knows that we cherish no dreams but those of world-wide commerce, the benefit of which shall be to all nations. The state is aug mented, but it threatens no nation under heaven. As to those regions which have come under the shadow of our flag, the pos sibility of their being damaged by such a change of circumstances was in the view of McKiNLEY a thing unthinkable. To believe that we could not administer them to their advantage was to turn infidel to our Amer ican faith of more than a hundred years. 211 In dealing with foreign powers, he will take rank with the greatest of our diploma tists. It was a world of which he had little special knowledge before coming to the Presidency. But his marvelous adaptability was in nothing more remarkable than in the firm grasp he immediately displayed in international relations. In preparing for war and in the restoration of peace he was alike adroit, courteous, and far-sighted. When a sudden emergency declared itself, as in China, in a state of things of which our history furnished no precedent and interna tional law no safe and certain precept, he hesitated not a moment to take the course marked out for him by considerations of humanity and the national interests. Even while the legations were fighting for their lives against bands of infuriated fanatics, he decided that we were at peace with China; and while that conclusion did not hinder 212 him from taking the most energetic meas ures to rescue our imperiled citizens, it enabled him to maintain close and friendly relations with the wise and heroic viceroys of the South, whose resolute stand saved that ancient Empire from anarchy and spo liation. He disposed of every question as it arose with a promptness and clarity of vision that astonished his advisers, and he never had occasion to review a judgment or reverse a decision. By patience, by firmness, by sheer rea sonableness, he improved our understanding with all the great powers of the world, and rightly gained the blessing which belongs to the peacemakers. But the achievements of the Nation in war and diplomacy are thrown in the shade by the vast economic developments which took place during Mr. McKiNLKY s Adminis tration. Up to the time of his first election, 213 the country was suffering from a long period of depression, the reasons of which I will not try to seek. But from the moment the ballots were counted that betokened his advent to power a great and momentous movement in advance declared itself along all the lines of industry and commerce. In the very month of his inauguration steel rails began to be sold at eighteen dollars a ton one of the most significant facts of modern times. It meant that American industries had adjusted themselves to the long depression; that through the power of the race to organize and combine, stimulated by the conditions then prevailing, and per haps by the prospect of legislation favorable to industry, America had begun to undersell the rest of the world. The movement went on without ceasing. The President and his party kept the pledges of their platform and their canvass. The Dingley bill was 214 speedily framed and set in operation. All industries responded to the new stimulus and American trade set out on its new crusade, not to conquer the world, but to trade with it on terms advantageous to all concerned. I will not weary you with statis tics; but one or two words seem necessary to show how the acts of McKiNLEY as President kept pace with his professions as candidate. His four years of administration were costly; we carried on a war which, though brief, was expensive. Although we borrowed two hundred millions and paid our own expenses, without asking for indemnity, the effective reduction of the debt now exceeds the total of the war bonds. We pay six millions less in interest than we did before the war and no bond of the United States yields the holder two per cent on its market value. So much for the Government credit; and we have five 215 hundred and forty-six millions of gross gold in the Treasury. But, coming to the development of our trade in the four McKiNLKY years, we seem to be entering the realm of fable. In the last fiscal year our excess of exports over imports was six hundred and sixty-four mil lion five hundred and ninety-two thousand eight hundred and twenty-six dollars. In the last four years it was two billion three hundred and fifty-four million four hun dred and forty-two thousand two hundred and thirteen dollars. These figures are so stupendous that they mean little to a care less reader but consider! The excess of exports over imports for the whole pre ceding period from 1790 to 1897 from Washington to McKiNLEY was only three hundred and fifty-six million eight hun dred and eight thousand eight hundred and twenty-two dollars. 2l6 The most extravagant promises made by the sanguine McKiNLEY advocates five years ago are left out of sight by these sober facts. The "debtor Nation" has become the chief creditor Nation. The financial center of the world, which required thousands of years to journey from the Euphrates to the Thames and the Seine, seems passing to the Hudson between daybreak and dark. I will not waste your time by explaining that I do not invoke for any man the credit of this vast result. The captain can not claim that it is he who drives the mighty steamship over the tumbling billows of the trackless deep; but praise is justly due him if he has made the best of her tremendous powers, if he has read aright the currents of the sea and the lessons of the stars. And we should be ungrateful if in this hour of prodigious prosperity we should fail to remember that WILLIAM McKiNLEY with 217 sublime faith foresaw it, with indomitable courage labored for it, put his whole heart and mind into the work of bringing it about; that it was his voice which, in dark hours, rang out, heralding the coming light, as over the twilight waters of the Nile the mystic cry of Memnon announced the dawn to Egypt, waking from sleep. Among the most agreeable incidents of the President s term of office were the two journeys he made to the South. The moral reunion of the sections so long and so ardently desired by him had been initiated by the Spanish war, when the veterans of both sides, and their sons, had marched shoulder to shoulder together under the same banner. The President in these jour neys sought, with more than usual eloquence and pathos, to create a sentiment which should end forever the ancient feud. He was too good a politician to expect any as 218 results in the way of votes in his favor, and he accomplished none. But for all that the good seed did not fall on barren ground. In the warm and chivalrous hearts of that generous people, the echo of his cordial and brotherly words will lin ger long, and his name will be cherished in many a household where even yet the Lost Cause is worshipped. Mr. McKiNLEY was reelected by an over whelming majority. There had been little doubt of the result among well-informed people; but when it was known, a profound feeling of relief and renewal of trust were evident among the leaders of capital and of industry, not only in this country, but every where. They felt that the immediate future was secure, and that trade and commerce might safely push forward in every field of effort and enterprise. He inspired universal confidence, which is the lifeblood of the commercial system of the world. It began frequently to be said that such a state of things ought to continue; one after another, men of prominence said that the President was his own best successor. He paid little attention to these suggestions until they were repeated by some of his nearest friends. Then he saw that one of the most cherished traditions of our public life was in danger. The generation which has seen the proph ecy of the Papal throne Non videbis annos Petri twice contradicted by the longevity of holy men was in peril of forgetting the unwritten law of our Republic: Thou shalt not exceed the years of Washington. The President saw it was time to speak, and in his characteristic manner he spoke, briefly, but enough. Where the lightning strikes there is no need of iteration. From that hour, no one dreamed of doubting his pur pose of retiring at the end of his second 220 term, and it will be long before another such lesson is required. He felt that the harvest time was come, to garner in the fruits of so much planting and culture, and he was determined that nothing he might do or say should be liable to the reproach of a personal interest. Let us say frankly he was a party man; he be lieved the policies advocated by him and his friends counted for much in the country s progress and prosperity. He hoped in his second term to accomplish substantial results in the development and affirmation of those policies. I spent a day with him shortly before he started on his fateful journey to Buffalo. Never had I seen him higher in hope and patriotic confidence. He was as sure of the future of his country as the Psalmist who cried: "Glorious things are spoken of thee, thou City of God." He was gratified to the heart that we had arranged 221 a treaty which gave us a free hand in the Isthmus. In fancy he saw the canal already built and the argosies of the world passing through it in peace and amity. He saw in the immense evolution of American trade the fulfillment of all his dreams, the reward of all his labors. He was I need not say an ardent protectionist, never more sincere and devoted than during those last days of his life. He regarded reciprocity as the bulwark of protection not a breach, but a fulfillment of the law. The treaties which for four years had been preparing under his personal supervision he regarded as ancillary to the general scheme. He was opposed to any revolutionary plan of change in the exist ing legislation; he was careful to point out that everything he had done was in faithful compliance with the law itself. In that mood of high hope, of generous expectation, he went to Buffalo, and there, on 222 the threshold of eternity, he delivered that memorable speech, worthy for its loftiness of tone, its blameless morality, its breadth of view, to be regarded as his testament to the Nation. Through all his pride of coun try and his joy in its success, runs the note of solemn warning, as in Kipling s noble hymn: "Lest we forget." "Our capacity to produce has developed so enormously and our products have so multiplied that the problem of more markets requires our urgent and immediate attention. Only a broad and enlightened policy will keep what we have. No other policy will get more. In these times of marvelous business energy and gain we ought to be looking to the future, strengthening the weak places in our industrial and commercial systems, that we may be ready for any storm or strain. "By sensible trade arrangements which will not interrupt our home production we 223 shall extend the outlets for our increasing surplus. A system which provides a mutual exchange of commodities is manifestly essen tial to the continued and healthful growth of our export trade. We must not repose in fancied security that we can forever sell everything and buy little or nothing. If such a thing were possible, it would not be best for us or for those with whom we deal. * Reciprocity is the natural outgrowth of our wonderful industrial de velopment under the domestic policy now firmly established. * The period of exclusiveness is past. The expansion of our trade and commerce is the pressing problem. Commercial wars are unprofita ble. A policy of good will and friendly trade relations will prevent reprisals. Reci procity treaties are in harmony with the spirit of the times; measures of retaliation are not." 224 I wish I had time to read the whole of this wise and weighty speech; nothing I might say could give such a picture of the President s mind and character. His years of apprenticeship had been served. He stood that day past master of the art of statesmanship. He had nothing more to ask of the people. He owed them nothing but truth and faithful service. His mind and heart were purged of the temptations which beset all men engaged in the struggle to survive. In view of the revelation of his nature vouchsafed to us that day, and the fate which impended over him, we can only say in deep affection and solemn awe: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." Even for that vision he was not unworthy. He had not long to wait. The next day sped the bolt of doom, and for a week after in an agony of dread broken by illusive 225 glimpses of hope that our prayers might be answered the Nation waited for the end. Nothing in the glorious life that we saw gradually waning was more admirable and exemplary than its close. The gentle humanity of his words, when he saw his assailant in danger of summary vengeance: "Don t let them hurt him;" his chivalrous care that the news should be broken gently to his wife; the fine courtesy with which he apologized for the damage which his death would bring to the great exhibition; and the heroic resignation of his final words: "It is God s way. His will, not ours, be done" were all the instinctive expressions of a nature so lofty and so pure that pride in its nobility at once softened and enhanced the Nation s sense of loss. The Republic grieved over such a son, but is proud for ever of having produced him. After all, in spite of its tragic ending, his life was 29 226 extraordinarily happy. He had, all his days, troops of friends, the cheer of fame and fruitful labor; and he became at last "On fortune s crowning slope, The pillar of a people s hope, The center of a world s desire." He was fortunate even in his untimely death, for an event so tragical called the world imperatively to the immediate study of his life and character, and thus anticipated the sure praises of posterity. Every young and growing people has to meet, at moments, the problems of its des tiny. Whether the question comes, as in Thebes, from a sphinx, symbol of the hostile forces of omnipotent nature, who punishes with instant death our failure to understand her meaning; or whether it comes, as in Jerusalem, from the Lord of Hosts, who commands the building of His temple, it comes always with the warning that the past 227 is past, and experience vain. "Your fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live forever?" The fathers are dead; the prophets are silent; the questions are new, and have no answer but in time. When the horny outside case which pro tects the infancy of a chrysalis nation sud denly bursts, and, in a single abrupt shock, it finds itself floating on wings which had not existed before, whose strength it has never tested, among dangers it can not foresee and is without experience to meas ure, every motion is a problem, and every hesitation may be an error. The past gives no clue to the future. The fathers, where are they? and the prophets, do they live forever? We are ourselves the fathers! We are ourselves the prophets! The questions that are put to us we must answer without delay, without help for the sphinx allows no one to pass. 228 At such moments we may be humbly grateful to have had leaders simple in mind, clear in vision as far as human vision can safely extend penetrating in knowledge of men, supple and flexible under the strains and pressures of society, instinct with the energy of new life and untried strength, cautious, calm, and, above all, gifted in a supreme degree with the most surely vic torious of all political virtues the genius of infinite patience. The obvious elements which enter into the fame of a public man are few and by no means recondite. The man who fills a great station in a period of change; who leads his country successfully through a time of crisis; who, by his power of persuading and controlling others, has been able to command the best thought of his age, so as to leave his country in a moral or mate rial condition in advance of where he found 229 it such a man s position in history is secure. If, in addition to this, his written or spoken words possess the subtle quality which carry them far and lodge them in men s hearts; and, more than all, if his utterances and actions, while informed with a lofty morality, are yet tinged with the glow of human sympathy, the fame of such a man will shine like a beacon through the mists of ages an object of reverence, of imitation, and of love. It should be to us an occasion of solemn pride that in the three great crises of our history such a man was not denied us. The moral value to a nation of a renown such as Washington s and Lincoln s and McKiNLEY s is beyond all computation. No loftier ideal can be held up to the emulation of ingenuous youth. With such examples we can not be wholly ignoble. Grateful as we may be for what they did, let us be still more grateful 230 for what they were. While our daily being, our public policies, still feel the influence of their work, let us pray that in our spir its their lives may be voluble, calling us upward and onward. There is not one of us but feels prouder of his native land because the august figure of Washington presided over its beginnings; no one but vows it a tenderer love because Lincoln poured out his blood for it; no one but must feel his devotion for his country renewed and kindled when he remembers how McKiNLEY loved, revered, and served it, showed in his life how a citizen should live, and in his last hour taught us how a gentleman could die. APPENDIX. 231 PROCEEDINGS IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES. THURSDAY, February 27, 1902. The House met at twelve o clock m. The Chaplain, Rev. Henry N. Couden, D. D., offered the following prayer: "We bless Thee, Almighty God, that our Nation will honor itself to-day in a memorial service to our late lamented and beloved President. May it teach us all the uncer tainty of life and help us by good works to be prepared for that change which must come to us all. In the name of Christ our Lord. Amen." The Speaker laid before the House the concurrent resolution relating to the memo rial service for the late President. 3 233 234 The Clerk read as follows: "Whereas the melancholy event of the violent and tragic death of WILLIAM Mo KINLEY, late President of the United States, having occurred during the recess of Con gress, and the two Houses sharing in the general grief and desiring to manifest their sensibility upon the occasion of the public bereavement: Therefore, be it "Resolved by the Hotise of Representatives (the Senate concurring}, That the two Houses of Congress will assemble in the Hall of the House of Representatives on a day and hour fixed and announced by the joint committee, to wit, Thursday, February 27, 1902, and that in the presence of the two Houses there assembled an address upon the life and char acter of WILLIAM McKiNLEY, late President of the United States, be pronounced by Hon. John Hay, and that the President of the Senate pro tcmpore and the Speaker of the 235 House of Representatives be requested to invite the President and ex-President of the United States, ex-Vice-Presidents, the heads of the several Departments, the Judges of the Supreme Court, the representatives of the for eign Governments, the governors of the sev eral States, the Lieutenant -General of the Army and the Admiral of the Navy, and such officers of the Army and Navy as have received the thanks of Congress who may then be at the seat of government, to be present on the occasion, and such others as may be sug gested by the executive committee. "Resolved, That the President of the United States be requested to transmit a copy of these resolutions to Mrs. Ida S. McKinley, and to assure her of the profound sympathy of the two Houses of Congress for her deep personal affliction, and of their sincere condolence for the late national be reavement. 236 The following was the official programme of arrangements, prepared by the joint com mittee of the two Houses: The Capitol will be closed on the morn ing of the twenty-seventh day of February, 1902, to all except members and officers of Congress. At ten o clock the east door leading to the Rotunda will be opened to those to whom invitations have been extended under the joint resolution of Congress by the Presiding Officers of the two Houses, and to those holding tickets of admission to the galleries. The Hall of the House of Represent atives will be opened for the admission of Representatives and to those who have invi tations, who will be conducted to the seats assigned to them, as follows: The President and ex-President of the United States and special guests will be seated in front of the Speaker. 237 The Chief Justice and Associate Justices of the Supreme Court will occupy seats next to the President and ex-President and spe cial guests, on the right of the Speaker. The Cabinet officers, the Lieutenant-Gen eral of the Army and the Admiral of the Navy, and the officers of the Army and Navy who, by name, have received the thanks of Congress will occupy seats on the left of the Speaker. The chief justices and judges of the Court of Claims and the chief justice and associate justices of the supreme court of the District of Columbia will occupy seats directly in the rear of the Supreme Court. The diplomatic corps will occupy .the front row of seats. Ex -Vice- Presidents and Senators will occupy seats in the second, third, fourth, and fifth rows, on the east side of the main aisle. 238 Representatives will occupy seats on the west side of the main aisle and in the rear of the Senators on the east side. Commissioners of the District, governors of States and Territories, assistant heads of Departments, and invited guests will occupy seats in the rear of Representatives. The Executive gallery will be reserved exclusively for the families of the Supreme Court and the families of the Cabinet, and the invited guests of the President. Tickets thereto will be delivered to the secretary to the President. The diplomatic gallery will be reserved exclusively for the families of the members of. the diplomatic corps. Tickets thereto will be delivered to the Secretary of State. The reporters gallery will be reserved exclusively for the use of the reporters for the press. Tickets thereto will be delivered to the press committee. 239 The official reporters of the Senate and of the House will occupy the reporters desk in front of the Clerk s table. The House of Representatives will be called to order by the Speaker at twelve o clock. The Marine Band will be in attendance. The Senate will assemble at twelve o clock, and immediately after prayer will proceed to the Hall of the House of Rep resentatives. The diplomatic corps will meet at half past eleven o clock in the Representatives lobby, and be conducted by the Sergeant- at-Arms of the House to the seats assigned them. The President of the Senate will occupy the Speaker s chair. The Speaker of the House will occupy a seat at the left of the President of the Senate. 240 The Chaplains of the Senate and of the House will occupy seats next the Presid ing Officers of their respective Houses. The chairmen of the joint committee of arrangements will occupy seats at the right and left of the Orator, and next to them will be seated the Secretary of the Senate and the Clerk of the House. The other officers of the Senate and of the House will occupy seats on the floor, at the right and left of the Speaker s platform. Prayer will be offered by the Rev. Henry N. Couden, D. D., Chaplain of the House of Representatives. The presiding officer will then present the Orator of the day. The benediction will be pronounced by the Rev. W. H. Milburn, Chaplain of the Senate. By reason of the limited capacity of the galleries the number of tickets is neces- 241 sarily restricted, and will be distributed as follows: To each Senator, Representative, and Delegate, two tickets. No person will be admitted to the Capitol except on presentation of a ticket, which will be good only for the place indicated. The Architect of the Capitol and the Sergeant-at-Arms of the Senate and the Doorkeeper of the House are charged with the execution of these arrangements. J. B. FORAKER, C. H. GROSVENOR, Cltairmen Joint Committee. The Doorkeeper of the House of Repre sentatives announced the President of the United States and his Cabinet, the President pro temporc and the Senate, the Chief Jus tice and Associate Justices of the Supreme Court, the Lieutenant-General of the Army, 31 242 the diplomatic corps, His Royal Highness Prince Henry of Prussia, and other invited guests. Hon. William P. Frye, President pro teni- porc of the Senate, called the two Houses to order. The Rev. Henry N. Couden, D. D., Chaplain of the House of Representatives, offered the following prayer: "O Lord God and Father of us all, in whose all-encircling love we dwell, we lift up our hearts in gratitude to Thee for that wise and beneficent Providence which shaped and has guided the destiny of our Nation through all the vicissitudes of the past, and for that long line of illustrious men who, susceptible to that heavenly influence, gave their minds and hearts to the Nation s good, weaving their characters into its fibers, making it strong and great. We are here 243 in memory of one of her noblest sons, to whom no greater tribute can be rendered, except a Nation s tears, than this distin guished presence. We respect him because he respected his country. We love him because he loved her people. We honor him because he honored and revered her sacred institutions and poured out his heart s blood for them. "God help us to cherish his memory in our hearts and emulate his virtues, that we may leave behind us a record well pleasing in Thy sight. We thank Thee for his life, for his services as a soldier, a citizen, and a statesman; we thank Thee that his country men will build monuments in his memory, that historians will record his deeds, but above all we thank Thee for that monument more grand and imposing than the mind of man has yet conceived which he builded for himself and for that unwritten record which 244 Heaven alone can reveal. Yea, we bless Thee for his public life and inestimable services, but we are not unmindful of the beautiful example of his private life warm in his friendships; a dutiful son; an affec tionate brother; a tender, loving husband; with malice toward none and charity for all. A Christian, ever turning with faith and confidence to his God for strength and guidance; his life was clean, his work noble, his faith sublime, his death glorious. Good-bye; good-bye, all. It is God s way; His will be done. "Tenderly care, we beseech Thee, O God our Father, for his companion in her widow hood, and bring her at last with him to dwell in Thy presence forever. Continue, we pray Thee, to care for us as a people, and bless all our righteous endeavors. Guide the lawmakers of our land, that good gov ernment may more and more obtain. Let 245 Thy blessing descend in full measure upon our President and all his counselors, that the laws may be administered in justice and equity. Be a light and a guide to those who interpret and judge those laws. Bless our people everywhere, and keep us in peace with all the world. Let Thy kingdom come into all our hearts, and Thy will be done in all lives, that the name of Our Father may be hallowed in all the earth, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." The President pro tcmpore of the Senate said: "It is now the agreeable duty of your presiding officer to present the Hon. John Hay, who has been selected by a committee of Congress to deliver the address on this occasion." Mr. Hay (who was greeted with hearty applause) delivered the memorial address. 246 Upon its conclusion the Rev. W. H. Mil- burn, D. D., Chaplain of the Senate, pro nounced the benediction, as follows: "The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost be with us all, now and ever. Amen." The President and his Cabinet, the Sen ate, the Chief Justice and the Associate Jus tices of the Supreme Court, the diplomatic corps, and other invited guests then retired. USE KETUKN TO BORROWED LOAN DEPT " :e Stan renev immediate a YF005791 - - . - 1 111 Jli