The evening light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1881-1883, 1882-03-06
Blaine's Pereroation on Garfield,

Blaine's PereroatiOn on Garfield.
On the morning of Saturday, July 2, the
president was a contented and happy man;
not in the ordinary degree, but oyfully, almost
boyishly happy. On his way to the railroad
station to which he drove slowly in conscious
enjoyment of the beautiful morning, with an
unwonted sense of leisure and keen anticipa-
ton OF pleasure; his talk was all in the CRATE
full and gratulatory vain. He felt that after
four months of trial his administration was
strong in its grasp of affairs, strong in popular
favor, and deserved to grow stronger; that the
grave difficulties confronting him at his inau-
guratlon had been safely passed; that the trou-
BILE lay behind him and not before him; that
he was soon to meet the wife whom he loved,
now recovering from an illness which had but
| lately disquieted and almost unnerved him;
that he was going TO his alma mater to renew
| the most cherished association of his Young
manhood, and to exchange greeting with
those whose deepening interest had followed
| every step OF his upward progress from the
day he entered college until he had attained
the loilest elevation in the gift Of his country
men. Much of happiness can ever come
from the honors or triumphs of this world. On
that quiet July morning James A. Garfield
may have well been happy man. No fore
boding of evil haunted him. Not the slight
est premonltion of danger clouded his sky.
tbs terrible fate was upon him in an instant.
One moment he stood erect, strong, confident
in the years stretching peacefully out before
MN. The next he lay wounded, bleeding,
to silence and the grave. Great in life, he
was unsurpassingly great in DEATH For no
cause, in the very frenzy of wantonneSs, this,
the red hand of murder, he was thrust from
the full tide of the worlds interest; from its
hopes, It's 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 life, hardly aware of its re-
inquishment, but through days Of deadly lam
guor, through weeks of agony that was not
less agony because silently bone, with clear
sight and calm courage he looked into his
open grave. What blight and ruin met his
angulshed eyes; whose lips may tell what
brilliant, broken plans; what bafiled, high
ambitions; what sundering of strong man
hoods friendships; what bitter rending of
sweet household ties. Behind him proud,
eXpectant nation, great host of sustaining
friends, cherished and happy mother, wear
ing the full rich honorS of her early tolls and
tears, the wife OF his youth, whose life lay in
MS; the little boys, not yet emerged from
chlldhoods day of trolic; the fair young
daughter, the sturdy sons just springng into
closest comPanionshp, claiming every day,
and every day rewarding fathers love and
care, and in his heart the eager rejoicing
power to meet all demands. Before him DESC
latlon and great darkness, and his soul was
not shaken, and his Countrymen were thrilled
with instant, profound and universal sympa-
thy. Ma%tertul in his mortal weakness, he
became the center of a nation'S love, enshrn-
ed in the prayers of world. But all the love
and all the sympathy could not share with
him his suffering. He trod the wine press
alone. With unfaultering front he laced
death. With untaltering tenderness he took
leave of life. Above the demoniac hiss of the
assassin's bullet he heard the voice of God.
WITH SIMPLE RESIGNATION
he bowed to the Divine decree. As the end
drew near his early craving for the sea re-
turned. 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, sitting air. From
its homeless and hopelessness, gently, silently
the love of great people bore the pale suffer-
er to the longed-for healing of the sea, to live
or to die as God should WILL within sight of
its heavlng pillows, within the sound of its
manifold voice. With wan, fevered face, ten
derby lifted to the cooling breeze, he looked
out wlstfully upon the oceans changing won
ders-on its far sails whitening in the morning
light, on its restless waves rolling shoreward
to break and die beneath the MONDAY sun, on
the red clouds OF evening arching low to the
the horizon, on the serene and shining path
way of the stars. Let us think that his dying
eyes read a mystic meaning, which only tine
rapt and parting soul may know. Let us be-
eve that in the silence of the receding world,
he heard the great waves breaking on further
shore, and felt already upon his wasted brow
the breath Of the eternal morning.