“But that is not all of the situation. On the other hand, we see the

North, after leaving its 350,000 dead upon the field of battle and

bringing home its 500,000 maimed and wounded to be cared for,

crippled in its industries, staggering under the tremendous burden

of public and private debt, and both North and South weighted with

unparalleled burdens and losses—the whole nation suffering from that

loosening of the bonds of social order which always follows a great

war, and from the resulting corruption both in the public and the

private life of the people. These, Mr. Chairman, constitute the vast

field which we must survey in order to find the path which will

soonest lead our beloved country to the highway of peace, of liberty

and prosperity. Peace from the shock of battle; the higher peace of

our streets, of our homes, of our equal rights, we must make secure

by making the conquering ideas of the war every-where dominant and

permanent.

“With all my heart I join with the gentleman in rejoicing that—

“‘The war-drums throb no longer, and the battle-flags are furled’—

and I look forward with joy and hope to the day when our brave

people, one in heart, one in their aspirations for freedom and

peace, shall see that the darkness through which we have traveled

was a part of that stern but beneficent discipline by which the

Great Disposer of events has been leading us on to a higher and

nobler national life.

“But such a result can be reached only by comprehending the whole

meaning of the revolution through which we have passed and are still

passing. I say still passing; for I remember that after the battle

of arms comes the battle of history. The cause that triumphs in the

field does not always triumph in history. And those who carried the

war for union and equal and universal freedom to a victorious issue

can never safely relax their vigilance until the ideas for which

they fought have become embodied in the enduring forms of individual

and national life.

“Has this been done? Not yet.

“I ask the gentleman in all plainness of speech, and yet in all

kindness, is he correct in his statement that the conquered party

accept the results of the war? Even if they do, I remind the

gentleman that _accept_ is not a very strong word. I go further. I

ask him if the Democratic party have _adopted_ the results of the

war? Is it not asking too much of human nature to expect such

unparalleled changes to be not only accepted, but, in so short a

time, adopted by men of strong and independent opinions?

“The antagonisms which gave rise to the war and grew out of it were

not born in a day, nor can they vanish in a night.

“Mr. Chairman, great ideas travel slowly, and for a time

noiselessly, as the gods, whose feet were shod with wool. Our war of

independence was a war of ideas, of ideas evolved out of two hundred

years of slow and silent growth. When, one hundred years ago, our

fathers announced as self-evident truths the declaration that all

men are created equal, and the only just power of governments is

derived from the consent of the governed, they uttered a doctrine

that no nation had ever adopted, that not one kingdom on the earth

then believed. Yet to our fathers it was so plain that they would

not debate it. They announced it as a truth ‘self-evident.’

“Whence came the immortal truths of the Declaration? To me this was

for years the riddle of our history. I have searched long and

patiently through the books of the _doctrinaires_ to find the germs

from which the Declaration of Independence sprang. I found hints in

Locke, in Hobbes, in Rousseau, and Fénelon; but they were only the

hints of dreamers and philosophers. The great doctrines of the

Declaration germinated in the hearts of our fathers, and were

developed under the new influences of this wilderness world, by the

same subtle mystery which brings forth the rose from the germ of the

rose-tree. Unconsciously to themselves, the great truths were

growing under the new conditions until, like the century-plant, they

blossomed into the matchless beauty of the Declaration of

Independence, whose fruitage, increased and increasing, we enjoy

to-day.

“It will not do, Mr. Chairman, to speak of the gigantic revolution

through which we have lately passed as a thing to be adjusted and

settled by a change of administration. It was cyclical, epochal,

century-wide, and to be studied in its broad and grand perspective—a

revolution of even wider scope, so far as time is concerned, than

the Revolution of 1776. We have been dealing with elements and

forces which have been at work on this continent more than two

hundred and fifty years. I trust I shall be excused if I take a few

moments to trace some of the leading phases of the great struggle.

And, in doing so, I beg gentlemen to see that the subject itself

lifts us into a region where the individual sinks out of sight and

is absorbed in the mighty current of great events. It is not the

occasion to award praise or pronounce condemnation. In such a

revolution men are like insects that fret and toss in the storm, but

are swept onward by the resistless movements of elements beyond

their control. I speak of this revolution not to praise the men who

aided it, or to censure the men who resisted it, but as a force to

be studied, as a mandate to be obeyed.

“In the year 1620 there were planted upon this continent two ideas

irreconcilably hostile to each other. Ideas are the great warriors

of the world; and a war that has no ideas behind it is simply

brutality. The two ideas were landed, one at Plymouth Rock from the

_Mayflower_, and the other from a Dutch brig at Jamestown, Virginia.

One was the old doctrine of Luther, that private judgment in

politics as well as religion, is the right and duty of every man;

and the other that capital should own labor, that the negro had no

rights of manhood, and the white man might justly buy, own, and sell

him and his offspring forever. Thus freedom and equality on the one

hand, and on the other the slavery of one race and the domination of

another, were the two germs planted on this continent. In our vast

expanse of wilderness, for a long time, there was room for both; and

their advocates began the race across the continent, each developing

the social and political institutions of their choice. Both had vast

interests in common; and for a long time neither was conscious of

the fatal antagonisms that were developing.

“For nearly two centuries there was no serious collision; but when

the continent began to fill up, and the people began to jostle

against each other; when the Roundhead and the Cavalier came near

enough to measure opinions, the irreconcilable character of the two

doctrines began to appear. Many conscientious men studied the

subject, and came to the belief that slavery was a crime, a sin, or

as Wesley said, ‘the sum of all villainies.’ This belief dwelt in

small minorities for a long time. It lived in the churches and

vestries, but later found its way into the civil and political

organizations of the country, and finally found its way into this

chamber. A few brave, clear-sighted, far-seeing men announced it

here, a little more than a generation ago. A predecessor of mine,

Joshua R. Giddings, following the lead of John Quincy Adams, of

Massachusetts, almost alone held up the banner on this floor, and

from year to year comrades came to his side. Through evil and

through good report he pressed the question upon the conscience of

the nation.

“And so the contest continued; the supporters of slavery believing

honestly and sincerely that slavery was a divine institution; that

it found its high sanctions in the living oracles of God and in a

wise political philosophy; that it was justified by the necessities

of their situation; and that slave-holders were missionaries to the

dark sons of Africa, to elevate and bless them. We are so far past

the passions of that early time that we can now study the progress

of the struggle as a great and inevitable development, without

sharing in the crimination and recrimination that attended it. If

both sides could have seen that it was a contest beyond their

control; if both parties could have realized the truth that

‘unsettled questions have no pity for the repose of nations,’ much

less for the fate of political parties, the bitterness, the sorrow,

the tears, and the blood might have been avoided. But we walked in

the darkness, our paths obscured by the smoke of the conflict, each

following his own convictions through ever-increasing fierceness,

until the debate culminated in ‘the last argument to which kings

resort.’

“This conflict of opinion was not merely one of sentimental feeling;

it involved our whole political system; it gave rise to two

radically different theories of the nature of our Government: the

North believing and holding that we were a Nation, the South

insisting that we were only a confederation of sovereign States, and

insisting that each State had the right, at its own discretion, to

break the Union, and constantly threatening secession where the full

rights of slavery were not acknowledged.

“Thus the defense and aggrandizement of slavery, and the hatred of

Abolitionism, became not only the central idea of the Democratic

party, but its master-passion—a passion intensified and inflamed by

twenty-five years of fierce political contest, which had not only

driven from its ranks all those who preferred freedom to slavery,

but had absorbed all the extreme pro-slavery elements of the fallen

Whig party. Over against this was arrayed the Republican party,

asserting the broad doctrines of nationality and loyalty, insisting

that no State had a right to secede, that secession was treason, and

demanding that the institution of slavery should be restricted to

the limits of the States where it already existed. But here and

there, many bolder and more radical thinkers declared, with Wendell

Phillips, that there never could be union and peace, freedom and

prosperity, until we were willing to see John Hancock under a black

skin.

* * * * *

“Mr. Chairman, after the facts I have cited, am I not warranted in

raising a grave doubt whether the transformation occurred at all

except in a few patriotic and philosophic minds? The light gleams

first on the mountain peaks; but shadows and darkness linger in the

valley. It is in the valley masses of those lately in rebellion that

the light of this beautiful philosophy, which I honor, has not

penetrated. It is safer to withhold from them the custody and

supreme control of the precious treasures of the Republic until the

midday sun of liberty, justice, and equal laws shall shine upon them

with unclouded ray.

“In view of all the facts, considering the centuries of influence

that brought on the great struggle, is it not reasonable to suppose

that it will require yet more time to effect the great

transformation? Did not the distinguished gentleman from

Massachusetts [Mr. George F. Hoar] sum up the case fairly and

truthfully when he said of the South, in his Louisiana report of

1874: ‘They submitted to the national authority, not because they

would, but because they must. They abandoned the doctrine of State

sovereignty, which they had claimed made their duty to the States

paramount to that due to the nation in case of conflict, not because

they would, but because they must. They submitted to the

constitutional amendments which rendered their former slaves their

equals in all political rights, not because they would, but because

they must. The passions which led to the war, the passions which the

war excited, were left untamed and unchecked, except so far as their

exhibition was restrained by the arm of power.’

“Mr. Chairman, it is now time to inquire as to the fitness of this

Democratic party to take control of our great nation and its vast

and important interests for the next four years. I put the question

to the gentleman from Mississippi [Mr. Lamar], what has the

Democratic party done to merit that great trust? He tried to show in

what respects it would not be dangerous. I ask him to show in what

it would be safe. I affirm, and I believe I do not misrepresent the

great Democratic party, that in the last sixteen years they have not

advanced one great national idea that is not to-day exploded and as

dead as Julius Cæsar. And if any Democrat here will rise and name a

great national doctrine his party has advanced, within that time,

that is now alive and believed in, I will yield to hear him. [A

pause.] In default of an answer, I will attempt to prove my

negative.

“What were the great central doctrines of the Democratic party in

the presidential struggle of 1860? The followers of Breckinridge

said slavery had a right to go wherever the Constitution goes. Do

you believe that to-day? Is there a man on this continent that holds

that doctrine to-day? Not one. That doctrine is dead and buried. The

other wing of the Democracy held that slavery might be established

in the territories if the people wanted it. Does any body hold that

doctrine to-day? Dead, absolutely dead!

“Come down to 1864. Your party, under the lead of Tilden and

Vallandigham, declared the experiment of war to save the Union was a

failure. Do you believe that doctrine to-day? That doctrine was shot

to death by the guns of Farragut at Mobile, and driven, in a tempest

of fire, from the valley of the Shenandoah by Sheridan less than a

month after its birth at Chicago.

“Come down to 1868. You declared the Constitutional Amendments

revolutionary and void. Does any man on this floor say so to-day? If

so, let him rise and declare it.

“Do you believe in the doctrine of the Broadhead letter of 1868,

that the so-called Constitutional Amendments should be disregarded?

No; the gentleman from Mississippi accepts the results of the war!

The Democratic doctrine of 1868 is dead!

“I walk across that Democratic camping-ground as in a graveyard.

Under my feet resound the hollow echoes of the dead. There lies

slavery, a black marble column at the head of its grave, on which

I read: Died in the flames of the Civil War; loved in its life;

lamented in its death; followed to its bier by its only mourner,

the Democratic party, but dead! And here is a double grave: Sacred

to the memory of Squatter Sovereignty. Died in the campaign of

1860. On the reverse side: Sacred to the memory of the Dred

Scott-Breckinridge doctrine. Both died at the hands of Abraham

Lincoln! And here a monument of brimstone: Sacred to the memory of

the Rebellion; the war against it is a failure; _Tilden et

Vallandigham fecerunt_, A. D. 1864. Dead on the field of battle;

shot to death by the million guns of the Republic. The doctrine of

Secession; of State Sovereignty. Dead. Expired in the flames of

civil war, amidst the blazing rafters of the Confederacy, except

that the modern Æneas, fleeing out of the flames of that ruin,

bears on his back another Anchises of State Sovereignty, and

brings it here in the person of the honorable gentleman from the

Appomattox district of Virginia [Mr. Tucker]. [Laughter.] All else

is dead.

“Now, gentlemen, are you sad, are you sorry for these deaths? Are

you not glad that Secession is dead? that slavery is dead? that

Squatter Sovereignty is dead? that the doctrine of the failure of

the war is dead? Then you are glad that you were out-voted in 1860,

in 1864, in 1868, and in 1872. If you have tears to shed over these

losses, shed them in the graveyard, but not in this House of living

men. I know that many a Southern man rejoices that these issues are

dead. The gentleman from Mississippi has clothed his joy with

eloquence.

“Now, gentlemen, if you yourselves are glad that you have suffered

defeat during the last sixteen years, will you not be equally glad

when you suffer defeat next November? [Laughter.] But pardon that

remark; I regret it; I would use no bravado.

“Now, gentlemen, come with me for a moment into the camp of the

Republican party and review its career. Our central doctrine in 1860

was that slavery should never extend itself over another foot of

American soil. Is that doctrine dead? It is folded away like a

victorious banner; its truth is alive for evermore on this

continent. In 1864 we declared that we would put down the Rebellion

and Secession. And that doctrine lives, and will live when the

second Centennial has arrived! Freedom, national, universal, and

perpetual—our great Constitutional Amendments, are they alive or

dead? Alive, thank the God that shields both liberty and Union. And

our national credit, saved from the assaults of Pendleton; saved

from the assaults of those who struck it later, rising higher and

higher at home and abroad; and only now in doubt lest its chief, its

only enemy, the Democracy, should triumph in November.

“Mr. Chairman, ought the Republican party to surrender its truncheon

of command to the Democracy? The gentleman from Mississippi says, if

this were England, the ministry would go out in twenty-four hours

with such a state of things as we have here. Ah, yes! that is an

ordinary case of change of administration. But if this were England,

what would she have done at the end of the war? England made one

such mistake as the gentleman asks this country to make, when she

threw away the achievements of the grandest man that ever trod her

highway of power. Oliver Cromwell had overturned the throne of

despotic power, and had lifted his country to a place of masterful

greatness among the nations of the earth; and when, after his death,

his great scepter was transferred to a weak though not unlineal

hand, his country, in a moment of reactionary blindness, brought

back the Stuarts. England did not recover from that folly until, in

1689, the Prince of Orange drove from her island the last of that

weak and wicked line. Did she afterward repeat the blunder?

“For more than fifty years pretenders were seeking the throne; and

the wars on her coast, in Scotland and in Ireland, threatened the

overthrow of the new dynasty and the disruption of the empire. But

the solid phlegm, the magnificent pluck, the roundabout common-sense

of Englishmen steadied the throne till the cause of the Stuarts was

dead. They did not change as soon as the battle was over and let the

Stuarts come back to power.

“And how was it in our own country, when our fathers had triumphed

in the war of the Revolution? When the victory was won, did they

open their arms to the Loyalists, as they called themselves, or

Tories, as our fathers called them? Did they invite them back? Not

one. They confiscated their lands. The States passed decrees that no

Tory should live on our soil. And when they were too poor to take

themselves away, our fathers, burdened as the young nation was with

debt, raised the money to transport the Tories beyond seas or across

the Canada border. They went to England, to France, to Nova Scotia,

to New Brunswick, and especially to Halifax; and that town was such

a resort for them, that it became the swear-word of our boyhood. ‘Go

to Halifax!’ was a substitute for a more impious, but not more

opprobrious expression. The presence of Tories made it opprobrious.

“Now, I do not refer to this as an example which we ought to follow.

Oh, no. We live in a milder era, in an age softened by the more

genial influence of Christian civilization. Witness the sixty-one

men who fought against us in the late war, and who are now sitting

in this and the other chamber of Congress. Every one of them is here

because a magnanimous nation freely voted that they might come; and

they are welcome. Only please do not say that you are just now

especially fitted to rule the Republic, and to be the apostles of

liberty and of blessings to the colored race.

“Gentlemen, the North has been asked these many years to regard the

sensibilities of the South. We have been told that you were brave

and sensitive men, and that we ought not to throw firebrands among

you. Most of our people have treated you with justice and

magnanimity. In some things we have given you just cause for

complaint; but I want to remind you that the North also has

sensibilities to be regarded. The ideas which they cherished, and

for which they fought, triumphed in the highest court, the court of

last resort, the field of battle. Our people intend to abide by that

verdict and to enforce the mandate. They rejoice at every evidence

of acquiescence. They look forward to the day when the distinctions

of North and South shall have melted away in the grander sentiment

of nationality. But they do not think it is yet safe to place the

control of this great work in your hands. In the hands of some of

you they would be safe, perfectly safe; but into the hands of the

united South, joined with the most reactionary elements of the

Northern Democracy, our people will not yet surrender the

government.

“I am aware that there is a general disposition ‘to let by-gones be

by-gones,’ and to judge of parties and of men, not by what they have

been, but by what they are and what they propose.

“That view is partly just and partly erroneous. It is just and wise

to bury resentments and animosities. It is erroneous in this, that

parties have an organic life and spirit of their own—an

individuality and character which outlive the men who compose them;

and the spirit and traditions of a party should be considered in

determining their fitness for managing the affairs of a nation. For

this purpose I have reviewed the history of the Democratic party.”

Long ago an arrangement was perfected by which each State of the Union

should be allowed to place in the halls of Congress two statues of

distinguished citizens. On December 19, 1876, the State of Massachusetts

announced its readiness to comply with this arrangement, by presenting

two statues, one of John Winthrop and one of Samuel Adams.

Speaking on the resolution of that day, accepting this gift, Mr.

Garfield made one of the most felicitous of the many speeches of this

kind that he has left on record. One paragraph from this address can not

be omitted here:

“As, from time to time, our venerable and beautiful Hall has been

peopled with statues of the elect of the States, it has seemed to me

that a Third House was being organized within the walls of the

Capitol—a house whose members have received their high credentials

at the hands of history, and whose term of office will outlast the

ages. Year by year we see the circle of its immortal membership

enlarging; year by year we see the elect of their country, in

eloquent silence, taking their places in this American Pantheon,

bringing within its sacred circle the wealth of those immortal

memories which made their lives illustrious; and year by year that

august assembly is teaching a deeper and grander lesson to all who

serve their brief hour in these more ephemeral Houses of Congress.

And now two places of great honor have just been most nobly filled.”

Of a truth, General Garfield understood and appreciated the greatness of

the Republic, and the grandeur of the character which belonged to its

founders!

The election for President, in 1876, and the difficulty which arose in

deciding its results, will not be forgotten by this generation, or left

out of the studies of American statesmen in the future. We still vividly

recollect how narrow the majority, and how uncertain; how all depended

on three doubtful Southern States; how the “visiting statesmen” went to

New Orleans to watch the count before the Returning Board; how the

nation waited breathless while these momentous calculations were being

made. And finally, we long shall remember that famous Electoral

Commission which by an eight to seven vote made R. B. Hayes President of

the United States.

Arriving at Washington early in November, General Garfield was requested

by President Grant to go to New Orleans with the little company of

Democratic and Republican leaders who were there. General Garfield

arrived in New Orleans on November fourteenth. In common with other

members of the Republican Committee, he refused to unite in any movement

to in any way influence the Returning Board in its canvass of the vote.

He was there simply to witness what was done; not to take part in the

proceedings.

These visitors of both parties were given opportunities to witness the

count, five of each party being there all the time. They were furnished

with copies of all testimony taken; and to simplify the work, the study

of this testimony was distributed out among individuals. General

Garfield was given all the papers regarding East Feliciana parish, which

he thoroughly examined, and even recalled and re-examined some of the

witnesses.

In the work before the Returning Board, that Board allowed these

witnesses to ask questions, and to take copies of all the papers. Each

party was also represented by counsel, who argued the disputed points.

This was the work of the “visiting statesmen.” When the canvassing of

votes was completed, without waiting for or trying to influence the

result, General Garfield returned to Washington, as did nearly all the

others.

It has been a question whether outsiders ought to have been at New

Orleans at all in this emergency. Certainly a public man ran great risk

of doing himself harm by going, and it required the utmost

circumspection to get out of it, clear from suspicion of evil. A year

afterward this affair was examined by the Potter Committee, and of

Garfield, the worst they could say was this: “We found no fault in him.”

But the struggle at New Orleans did not decide it all. When January came

it was seen that there would still be trouble in deciding who were

elected. It was feared by all that an attempt to decide by the existing

laws, without the help of further provisions, might lead to serious

difficulties.

Accordingly, on January 29, 1877, there was passed in the House a law

providing for the Electoral Commission, a body to be composed of five

Associate Justices of the Supreme Court, five Senators and five

Representatives, to whom should be committed the duty of deciding, by

their recommendation, the votes of any disputed States.

General Garfield was opposed to this commission, which he thought an

unhappy way of ending the trouble. His views are given in a speech made

to the House, on January 25, wherein he said:

“What, then, are the grounds on which we should consider a bill like

this? It would be unbecoming in me or in any member of this Congress

to oppose this bill on mere technical or trifling grounds. It should

be opposed, if at all, for reasons so broad, so weighty, as to

overcome all that has been said in its favor, and all the advantages

which I have here admitted may follow from its passage. I do not

wish to diminish the stature of my antagonist; I do not wish to

undervalue the points of strength in a measure before I question its

propriety. It is not enough that this bill will tide us over a

present danger, however great. Let us for a moment forget Hayes and

Tilden, Republicans and Democrats; let us forget our own epoch and

our own generation; and, entering a broader field, inquire how this

thing which we are about to do will effect the great feature of our

republic, and in what condition, if we pass this bill, we shall

transmit our institutions to those who shall come after us. The

present good which we shall achieve by it may be very great; yet if

the evils that will flow from it in the future must be greater, it

would be base in us to flinch from trouble by entailing remediless

evils upon our children.

“In my view, then, the foremost question is this: What will be the

effect of this measure upon our institutions? I can not make that

inquiry intelligibly without a brief reference to the history of the

Constitution, and to some of the formidable questions which

presented themselves to our fathers nearly a hundred years ago, when

they set up this goodly frame of Government.

“Among the foremost difficulties, both in point of time and

magnitude, was how to create an executive head of the Nation. Our

fathers encountered that difficulty the first morning after they

organized and elected the officers of the Constitutional Convention.

The first resolution introduced by Randolph, of Virginia, on the

29th day of May, recognized that great question, and invited the

Convention to its examination. The men who made the Constitution

were deeply read in the profoundest political philosophy of their

day. They had learned from Montesquieu, from Locke, from Fénelon,

and other good teachers of the human race, that liberty is

impossible without a clear and distinct separation of the three

great powers of government. A generation before their epoch,

Montesquieu had said:

“‘When the legislative and executive powers are united in the same

person or in the same body of magistrates, there can be no liberty,

because apprehensions may arise lest the same monarch or senate

should enact tyrannical laws and execute them in a tyrannical

manner.

* * * * *

“‘There would be an end of every thing were the same man or the same

body, whether of the nobles or of the people, to exercise these

three powers, that of enacting the laws, that of executing the

public resolutions, and of trying the causes of individuals.’

“This was a fundamental truth in the American mind, as it had long

been cherished and practiced in the British empire.

“There, as in all monarchies, the creation of a chief executive was

easily regulated by adopting a dynasty, and following the law of

primogeniture.

“But our fathers had drawn the deeper lesson of liberty from the

inspirations of this free New World, that their Chief Executive

should be born, not of a dynasty, but of the will of a free people

regulated by law.

“In the course of their deliberations upon this subject, there were

suggested seven different plans, which may be grouped under two

principal heads or classes. One group comprised all the plans for

creating the Chief Executive by means of some one of the preëxisting

political organizations of the country. First and foremost was the

proposition to authorize one or both Houses of the National

Legislature to elect the Chief Executive. Another was to confer that

power upon the governors of the States, or upon the legislatures of

the States. Another, that he should be chosen directly by the people

themselves under the laws of the States. The second group comprised

all the various plans for creating a new and separate

instrumentality for making the choice.

“At first the proposition that the Executive should be elected by

the National Legislature was received by the Convention with almost

unanimous approval; and for the reason that up to that time Congress

had done all that was done in the way of national government. It had

created the nation and led its fortunes through a thousand perils,

had declared and achieved independence, and had preserved the

liberty of the people in the midst of a great war. Though Congress

had failed to secure a firm and stable Government after the war, yet

its glory was not forgotten. As Congress had created the Union, it

was most natural that our fathers should say Congress should also

create the Chief Executive of the nation. And within two weeks after

the Convention assembled, they voted for that plan with absolute

unanimity.

“But with equal unanimity they agreed that this plan would be fatal

to the stability of the Government they were about to establish, if

they did not couple with it some provision that should make the

President’s functions independent of the power that created him. To

effect this, they provided that the President should be ineligible

for reëlection. They said it would never do to create a Chief

Executive by the voice of the National Legislature, and then allow

him to be reëlected by that same voice; for he would thus become

their creature.

“And so, from the first day of their session in May, to within five

days of its close in September, they grappled with the mighty

question. I have many times, and recently very carefully, gone

through all the records that are left to us of that great

transaction. I find that more than one-seventh of all the pages of

the Madison papers are devoted to this Samson of questions, how the

Executive should be chosen and made independent of the organization

that made the choice. This topic alone occupied more than

one-seventh of all the time of the Convention.

“After a long and earnest debate, after numerous votes and

reconsiderations, they were obliged utterly to abandon the plan of

creating the Chief Executive by means of the National Legislature. I

will not stop now to prove the statement by a dozen or more pungent

quotations from the masters of political science in that great

assembly, in which they declared that it would be ruinous to the

liberty of the people and to the permanence of the Republic if they

did not absolutely exclude the National Legislature from any share

in the election of the President.

“They pointed with glowing eloquence to the sad but instructive fate

of those brilliant Italian republics that were destroyed because

there was no adequate separation of powers, and because their

senates overwhelmed and swallowed up the executive power, and, as

secret and despotic conclaves, became the destroyers of Italian

liberty.

“At the close of the great discussion, when the last vote on this

subject was taken by our fathers, they were almost unanimous in

excluding the National Legislature from any share whatever in the

choice of the Chief Executive of the nation. They rejected all the

plans of the first group, and created a new instrumentality. They

adopted the system of electors. When that plan was under discussion,

they used the utmost precaution to hedge it about by every

conceivable protection against the interference or control of

Congress.

“In the first place, they said the States shall create the electoral

colleges. They allowed Congress to have nothing whatever to do with

the creation of the colleges, except merely to fix the time when the

States should appoint them. And, in order to exclude Congress by

positive prohibition, in the last days of the Convention they

provided that no member of either House of Congress should be

appointed an elector; so that not even by the personal influence of

any one of its members could the Congress interfere with the

election of a President.

“The creation of a President under our Constitution consists of

three distinct steps: First, the creation of the electoral colleges;

second, the vote of colleges; and third, the opening and counting of

their votes. This is the simple plan of the Constitution.

“The creation of the colleges is left absolutely to the States,

within the five limitations I had the honor to mention to the House

a few days ago. First, it must be a _State_ that appoints electors;

second, the State is limited as to the number of electors it may

appoint; third, electors shall not be members of Congress or

officers of the United States; fourth, the time for appointing

electors may be fixed by Congress; and, fifth, the time when their

appointment is announced, which must be before the date for giving

their votes, may also be fixed by Congress.

“These five simple limitations, and these alone, were laid upon the

States. Every other act, fact, and thing possible to be done in

creating the electoral colleges was absolutely and uncontrollably in

the power of the States themselves. Within these limitations,

Congress has no more power to touch them in this work than England

or France. That is the first step.

“The second is still plainer and simpler, namely, the work of the

colleges. They were created as an independent and separate power, or

set of powers, for the sole purpose of electing a President. They

were created by the States. Congress has just one thing to do with

them, and only one: it may fix the day when they shall meet. By the

act of 1792 Congress fixed the day as it still stands in the law;

and there the authority of the Congress over the colleges ended.

“There was a later act—of 1845—which gave to the States the

authority to provide by law for filling vacancies of electors in

these colleges; and Congress has passed no other law on the subject.

“The States having created them, the time of their assemblage having

been fixed by Congress, and their power to fill vacancies having

been regulated by State laws, the colleges are as independent in the

exercise of their functions as is any department of the Government

within its sphere. Being thus equipped, their powers are restrained

by a few simple limitations laid upon them by the Constitution

itself: first, they must vote for a native-born citizen; second, for

a man who has been fourteen years a resident of the United States;

third, at least one of the persons for whom they vote must not be a

citizen of their own State; fourth, the mode of voting and

certifying their returns is prescribed by the Constitution itself.

Within these simple and plain limitations the electoral colleges are

absolutely independent of the States and of Congress.

“One fact in the history of the Constitutional Convention, which I

have not seen noticed in any of the recent debates, illustrates very

clearly how careful our fathers were to preserve these colleges from

the interference of Congress, and to protect their independence by

the bulwarks of the Constitution itself. In the draught of the

electoral system reported September 4, 1787, it was provided that

Congress ‘may determine the time of choosing and assembling of the

electors _and the manner of certifying and transmitting their

votes_.’

“That was the language of the original draught; but our fathers had

determined that the National Legislature should have nothing to do

with the action of the colleges; and the words that gave Congress

the power to prescribe the manner of certifying and transmitting

their votes were stricken out. The instrument itself prescribed the

mode. Thus Congress was wholly expelled from the colleges. The

Constitution swept the ground clear of all intruders, and placed its

own imperial guardianship around the independence of the electoral

colleges by forbidding even Congress to enter the sacred circle. No

Congressman could enter; and, except to fix the day of their

meeting, Congress could not speak to the electors.

“These colleges are none the less sovereign and independent because

they exist only for a day. They meet on the same day in all the

States; they do their work summarily in one day, and dissolve for

ever. There is no power to interfere, no power to recall them, no

power to revise their action. Their work is done; the record is made

up, signed, sealed, and transmitted; and thus the second great act

in the Presidential election is completed. I ought to correct

myself; the second act _is_ the Presidential election. The election

is finished the hour when the electoral colleges have cast their

votes and sealed up the record.

“Still, there is a third step in the process; and it is shorter,

plainer, simpler than the other two. These sealed certificates of

the electoral colleges are forwarded to the President of the Senate,

where they rest under the silence of the seals for more than two

months. The Constitution assumes that the result of the election is

still unknown. But on a day fixed by law, and the only day of all

the days of February on which the law commands Congress to be in

session, the last act in the plan of electing a President is to be

performed.

“How plain and simple are the words that describe this third and

last step. Here they are:

“‘The President of the Senate shall, in the presence of the

Senate and House of Representatives, open all the certificates,

and the votes shall then be counted.’

“Here is no ambiguity. Two words dominate and inspire the clause.

They are the words _open_ and _count_. These words are not shrouded

in the black-letter mysteries of the law. They are plain words,

understood by every man who speaks our mother-tongue, and need no

lexicon or commentary.

“Consider the grand and simple ceremonial by which the third act is

to be completed. On the day fixed by law the two Houses of Congress

are assembled. The President of the Senate, who, by the

Constitution, has been made the custodian of the sealed certificates

from all the electoral colleges, takes his place. The Constitution

requires a ‘person’ and a ‘presence.’ That ‘person’ is the President

of the Senate; and that ‘presence’ is the ‘presence’ of the two

Houses. Then two things are to be _done_. The certificates are to be

opened, and the votes are to be counted. These are not legislative

acts, but clearly and plainly executive acts. I challenge any man to

find anywhere an accepted definition of an executive act that does

not include both these. They can not be tortured into a meaning that

will carry them beyond the boundaries of executive action. And one

of these acts the President of the Senate is peremptorily ordered to

perform. The Constitution commands him to ‘open all the

certificates.’ Certificates of what? Certificates of the votes of

the electoral colleges. Not any certificates that any body may

choose to send, but certificates of electors appointed by the

States. The President of the Senate is presumed to know what are the

States in the Union, who are their officers, and, when he opens the

certificates, he learns from the official record who have been

appointed electors, and he finds their votes.

“The Constitution contemplated the President of the Senate as the

Vice-President of the United States, the elect of all the people.

And to him is confided the great trust, the custodianship of the

only official record of the election of President. What is it to

‘open the certificates’? It would be a narrow and inadequate view of

that word to say that it means only the breaking of the seals. To

open an envelope is not to ‘open the certificates.’ The certificate

is not the paper on which the record is made; it is the record

itself. To open the certificates is not a physical but an

intellectual act. It is to make patent the record; to publish it.

When that is done the election of President and Vice-President is

published. But one thing remains to be done; and here the language

of the Constitution changes from the active to the passive voice,

from the personal to the impersonal. To the trusted custodian of the

votes succeeds the impersonality of arithmetic; the votes have been

made known; there remains only the command of the Constitution:

‘They shall be counted’—that is, the numbers shall be added up.

“No further act is required. The Constitution itself declares the

result:

“‘The person having the greatest number of votes for President

shall be President, if such number be a majority of the whole

number of electors appointed.’

“If no person has such majority, the House of Representatives shall

_immediately_ choose a President; not the House as organized for

legislation, but a new electoral college is created out of the

members of the House, by means of which each State has one vote for

President, and only one.

“To review the ground over which I have traveled: The several acts

that constitute the election of a President may be symbolized by a

pyramid consisting of three massive, separate blocks. The first, the

creation of the electoral college by the States, is the broad base.

It embraces the legislative, the judicial, and the executive powers

of the States. All the departments of the State government and all

the voters of the State coöperate in shaping and perfecting it.

“The action of the electoral colleges forms the second block,

perfect in itself, and independent of the others, superimposed with

exactness upon the first.

“The opening and counting of the votes of the colleges is the little

block that crowns and completes the pyramid.

“Such, Mr. Speaker, was the grand and simple plan by which the

framers of the Constitution empowered all the people, acting under

the laws of the several States, to create special and select

colleges of independent electors to choose a President, who should

be, not the creature of Congress, nor of the States, but the Chief

Magistrate of the whole Nation—the elect of all the people.”

But the Electoral Commission was constituted by law, and Garfield

himself chosen unanimously by his party as a member thereof. He

accepted, saying: “Since you have appointed me, I will serve. I can act

on a committee when I do not believe in its validity.” That fact could

not affect the justice of his decisions.

It is impossible to even hint at more than a small portion of the vast

field of work which occupied General Garfield during this and the

succeeding Congress.

On November 16, 1877, he made a very able speech on the subject of

Resumption of Payments; an address which would serve to perpetuate his

fame, if he had no other monument.

In the _Atlantic Monthly_ of February, 1876, appeared an article from

his pen, entitled “The Currency Conflict.” On June 4, of the same year,

he opposed, in an elaborate address, a tariff bill brought in by Mr.

Morrison, of Illinois.

June 22, 1876, was to him the “sad occasion dear” of a revival of

precious memories. In the preceding December his old friend and

fellow-student of Hiram, Miss Booth, had died, and this day in June was

appointed there for a memorial address by General Garfield. As at all

such times when he spoke, we are struck with a sense of the wonderful

delicacy of this man’s nature, which responded so perfectly to every

delicate and holy sentiment known to the human heart. His very first

words were:

“_Mr. President_: You have called me to a duty at once most sad and

most sacred. At every step of my preparation for its performance, I

have encountered troops of thronging memories that swept across the

field of the last twenty-five years of my life, and so filled my

heart with the lights and shadows of their joy and sorrow that I

have hardly been able to marshal them into order or give them

coherent voice. I have lived over again the life of this place. I

have seen again the groups of young and joyous students, ascending

these green slopes, dwelling for a time on this peaceful height in

happy and workful companionship, and then, with firmer step, and

with more serious and thoughtful faces, marching away to their posts

in the battle of life.

“And still nearer and clearer have come back the memories of that

smaller band of friends, the leaders and guides of those who

encamped on this training-ground. On my journey to this assembly, it

has seemed that they, too, were coming, and that I should once more

meet and greet them. And I have not yet been able to realize that

Almeda Booth will not be with us. After our great loss, how shall we

gather up the fragments of the life we lived in this place? We are

mariners, treading the lonely shore in search of our surviving

comrades and the fragments of our good ship, wrecked by the tempest.

To her, indeed, it is no wreck. She has landed in safety, and

ascended the immortal heights beyond our vision.”

The death of Michael C. Kerr having made necessary the selection of a

new Speaker, the Democratic majority in the House elected Samuel J.

Randall, and the complimentary vote of the Republicans went to General

Garfield. He was also their candidate in the two succeeding Congresses.

He had divided the honor of leadership pretty evenly with Mr. Blaine,

until, in 1877, the latter gentleman went to the Senate, and left

Garfield without a rival. Fourteen years of able and faithful service

had done their work grandly for his power and his fame.

On February 12, 1878, Mrs. Elizabeth Thompson, of New York City,

presented to Congress that great painting of Carpenter, “Lincoln and

Emancipation.” At her request the presentation address was made by

General Garfield.

His important speeches during this Congress were even more numerous than

usual; especially in the special session held in the spring and summer

of 1879. One of the best was that of February 19, 1878, on the “Policy

of Pacification, and the Prosecutions in Louisiana.” At this time there

were two serious political storms brewing in the air. First, there were

divisions in the Republican party, and an alienation of some of its

leaders from President Hayes; second, the Democratic party, with its

cries of “fraud,” concerning the last election, and its Potter

Committee, and its prosecutions against the members of the Louisiana

Returning Board, was trying to destroy the people’s confidence in the

Government as then constituted. The latter quarrel no doubt was the

salvation of the party concerned in the former. Its members rallied and

united. Garfield was leader and chief promoter of Republican harmony, as

well as the strongest bulwark against the enemy.

This speech of February 19 contains the following pithy paragraph,

descriptive of the way in which the nation had passed through the

transformations of war:

“There was, first, the military stage—the period of force, of open

and bloody war—in which gentlemen of high character and honor met on

the field, and decided by the power of the strongest the questions

involved in the high court of war. That period passed, but did not

leave us on the calm level of peace. It brought us to the period of

transition, in which the elements of war and peace were mingled

together in strange and anarchic confusion. It was a period of civil

and military elements combined. All through that semi-military

period the administration of General Grant had, of necessity, to

conduct the country. His administration was not all civil, it was

not all military; it was necessarily a combination of both; and out

of that combination came many of the strange and anomalous

situations which always follow such a war.”

Again:

“Our great military chieftain, who brought the war to a successful

conclusion, had command as chief executive during eight years of

turbulent, difficult, and eventful administration. He saw his

administration drawing to a close, and his successor elected—who,

studying the question, came to the conclusion that the epoch had

arrived, the hour had struck, when it was possible to declare that

the semi-military period was ended, and the era of peace methods, of

civil processes, should be fully inaugurated. With that spirit, and

at the beginning of this third era, Rutherford B. Hayes came into

the Presidency. I ought to say that, in my judgment, more than any

other public man we have known, the present head of the

administration is an optimist. He looks on the best side of things.

He is hopeful for the future, and prefers to look upon the bright

side rather than upon the dark and sinister side of human nature.

His faith is larger than the faith of most of us; and with his faith

and hope he has gone to the very verge of the Constitution in

offering both hands of fellowship and all the olive-branches of

peace to bring back good feeling, and achieve the real pacification

to this country.”

After this came a brief protest against the Bland Silver Bill, February

28, 1878. On March 6, 1878, he delivered his “New Scheme of American

Finance,” being in answer to a personal attack of William D. Kelley, the

great protective tariff advocate, of Pennsylvania. Other addresses were,

“The Army and the Public Peace,” May 21, 1878; reply to Mr. Tucker on

the “Tariff,” June 4, 1878; “Honest Money,” a speech delivered at

Boston, in Faneuil Hall, September 10, 1878; “Suspension and Resumption

of Specie Payments,” at Chicago, January 2, 1879, before the Honest

Money League of the North-west; in memory of Joseph Henry, January

16,1879; “Relation of Government to Science,” February 11, 1879; in

memory of the late Hon. Gustave Schleicher, February 17, 1879; and a

very interesting speech of February 26, 1879, about the “Sugar Tariff.”

When March 3,1879, came, the Forty-Fifth Congress went out with much of

its important business undone; two of the great appropriation bills had

not passed on account of political difficulties. The Democrats attempted

to force assent to some of their schemes by tacking their propositions

to the Appropriation bill. But this measure the Republicans resisted to

the last. And so it happened that in March, 1879, President Hayes was

obliged to call an extra session. But here the old fight was renewed,

and a long “dead lock” followed.

Throughout this struggle, Garfield was the central figure in the front

rank of his party in the House. Scarcely had Congress assembled when the

old Army Bill was reported. Then, in Committee of the Whole, the old

“rider” was moved as an amendment. The Chair decided this amendment in

order, whereupon there was great indignation on the Republican side, and

a remarkable debate ensued. Garfield made his principal protest while

things were in this situation, on March 29, 1879, in a speech entitled

“Revolution in Congress.”

Throughout this special session the fierce heat of political conflict

grew more intense every day, like the sun whose burning rays beat down

upon the Capitol. On April 4, Garfield spoke again on the subject which

had occupied his attention six days before. April 26, he spoke on the

passage of the Legislative Appropriation Bill; May 17, against unlimited

coinage of silver; June 19, on the Judicial Appropriation Bill; June 21,

concerning a proposed survey of the Mississippi River, in the course of

which he said:

“But for myself, I believe that one of the grandest of our material

national interests—one that is national in the largest material

sense of that word—is the Mississippi River and its navigable

tributaries. It is the most gigantic single natural feature of our

continent, far transcending the glory of the ancient Nile or of any

other river on the earth. The statesmanship of America must grapple

the problem of this mighty stream. It is too vast for any State to

handle; too much for any authority less than that of the nation

itself to manage. And I believe the time will come when the

liberal-minded statesmanship of this country will devise a wise and

comprehensive system, that will harness the powers of this great

river to the material interests of America, so that not only all the

people who live on its banks and the banks of its confluents, but

all the citizens of the Republic, whether dwellers in the central

valley or on the slope of either ocean, will recognize the

importance of preserving and perfecting this great natural and

material bond of national union between the North and the South—a

bond to be so strengthened by commerce and intercourse that it can

never be severed.”

Thus refreshed by something more liberal than the recent discussions in

which he had been engaged, Garfield soon resumed the struggle, and on

June 27, 1879, gave the Democratic party and the South a regular

broadside on “State Sovereignty.”

The Special Session of 1879 came to an end on July 1st. At its beginning

the dominant power in the House loudly proclaimed its intention to push

its measures through at all hazards. The appropriation bills, with their

obnoxious “riders,” were passed; the President vetoed them. It then

became a question of revolution or yielding. There was no revolution!

Every dollar called for by the Government was voted, except the pay of

the United States marshals, who overcame the difficulty by paying their

own expenses, trusting a future session of Congress to repay them.

According to his custom, General Garfield spoke often during the Ohio

campaign of 1879; a good specimen of his stump speeches is the one at

Cleveland, on October 11th, of this year. At the Andersonville Reunion,

held in Toledo, Ohio, on October 3d, he had been present and addressed

the throng of Union soldiers and ex-prisoners who met there.

During the regular sessions of the Forty-Sixth Congress his activity was

undiminished. In his speech of March 17, during the discussion of a bill

to pay the United States marshals for the year ending June 30, 1880, we

find such sterling utterances as these:

“Mr. Chairman: When I took my seat as a member of this House, I took

it with all the responsibilities which the place brought upon me;

and among others was my duty to keep the obligations of the law.

Where the law speaks in mandatory terms to every body else and then

to me, I should deem it cowardly and dishonorable if I should skulk

behind my legislative privilege for the purpose of disobeying and

breaking the supreme law of the land.

“The issue now made is somewhat different from that of the last

session, but, in my judgment, it is not less significant and

dangerous. I would gladly waive any party advantage which this

controversy might give for the sake of that calm and settled peace

which would reign in this Hall if we all obeyed the law. But if the

leaders on the other side are still determined to rush upon their

fate by forcing upon the country this last issue—that because the

Democratic party happen not to like a law they will not obey

it—because they happen not to approve of the spirit and character of

a law they will not let it be executed—I say to gentlemen on the

other side, if you are determined to make such an issue, it is high

time that the American people should know it.

“Here is the volume of our laws. More sacred than the twelve tables

of Rome, this rock of the law rises in monumental grandeur alike

above the people and the President, above the courts, above

Congress, commanding everywhere reverence and obedience to its

supreme authority. Yet the dominant party in this House virtually

declares that ‘any part of this volume that we do not like and can

not repeal we will disobey. We have tried to repeal these election

laws; we have failed because we had not the constitutional power to

destroy them; the Constitution says they shall stand in their

authority and power; but we, the Democratic party, in defiance of

the Constitution, declare that if we can not destroy them outright

by the repeal, they shall be left to crumble into ruin by wanton and

lawless neglect.’

“Mr. Chairman, by far the most formidable danger that threatens the

Republic to-day is the spirit of law-breaking which shows itself in

many turbulent and alarming manifestations. The people of the

Pacific Coast, after two years of wrestling with the spirit of

communism in the city of San Francisco, have finally grappled with

this lawless spirit, and the leader of it was yesterday sentenced to

penal servitude as a violator of the law. But what can we say to

Denis Kearney and his associates if to-day we announce ourselves the

foremost law-breakers of the country and set an example to all the

turbulent and vicious elements of disorder to follow us?

“I ask, gentlemen, whether this is a time when it is safe to

disregard and weaken the authority of law. In all quarters the civil

society of this country is becoming honeycombed through and through

by disintegrating forces—in some States by the violation of

contracts and the repudiation of debts; in others by open resistance

and defiance; in still others by the reckless overturning of

constitutions and letting the ‘red fool fury of the Seine’ run riot

among our people and build its blazing altars to the strange gods of

ruin and misrule. All these things are shaking the good order of

society and threatening the foundations of our Government and our

peace. In a time like this, more than ever before, this country

needs a body of lawgivers clothed and in their right minds, who have

laid their hands upon the altar of the law as its defenders, not its

destroyers.”

April 5, 1880, General Garfield made a trenchant argument against a pet

measure of the greenback apostle, Mr. Weaver. Five days afterward

occurred a debate between Garfield and McMahon, also of Ohio, on the

pending Appropriation bill.

On May first he made a personal explanation, defending his committee

action in regard to the so-called wood-pulp monopoly. This pulp is

obtained from soft wood and used in the manufacture of paper. The

newspapers everywhere were calling for a removal of the duty on this

their great necessity. Garfield stood out for a ten per cent. tariff, as

a protection to our manufacturers from the Canadian manufacturers, who

had no royalties to pay, and therefore could have undersold us. In this

speech Garfield met the charge of being a monopoly supporter, and

vindicated his policy on the disputed question.

Turning aside from this well-fought field where Garfield had so long

stood, as a great representative of all that is good in the recent

legislative history of our country, it is time to view the new honors

which were now preparing for him.

On the fourteenth of January, 1880, the Ohio Legislature elected James

A. Garfield to the United States Senate, to succeed Mr. Thurman, whose

term was to expire in the following March. So thoroughly had Garfield

recovered from the wave of scandal which a few years earlier had swept

over but could not overwhelm him, that he was the unanimous choice of

his party; and the Democratic minority itself cordially united to make

his election unanimous. All this came entirely without solicitation from

him for such an honor.

At an informal reception held in the Capitol at Columbus, the evening

after his election, General Garfield was called upon for a speech. In

response, he made a brief and appropriate address. The following is an

extract therefrom:

“FELLOW-CITIZENS:—I should be a great deal more than a man, or a

great deal less than a man, if I were not extremely gratified by

this mark of your kindness you have shown me in recent days. I did

not expect any such meeting as this. I knew there was a greeting

awaiting me, but I did not expect so cordial, generous, and general

a greeting, without distinction of party, without distinction of

interests, as I have received here to-night. And you will allow me

in a moment or two to speak of the memories this chamber awakens.

“I recognize the importance of the place to which you have elected

me, and I should be base if I did not also recognize the great man

whom you have elected me to succeed. I say for him, Ohio has had few

larger-minded, broader-minded men in the records of our history than

that of Allen G. Thurman. Differing widely from him as I have done

in politics, and do, I recognize him as a man high in character and

great in intellect; and I take this occasion to refer to what I have

never before referred to in public—that many years ago, in the storm

of party fighting, when the air was filled with all sorts of

missiles aimed at the character and reputation of public men, when

it was even for his party interest to join the general clamor

against me and my associates, Senator Thurman said in public, in the

campaign, on the stump,—where men are as likely to say unkind things

as at any place in the world,—a most generous and earnest word of

defense and kindness for me, which I shall never forget as long as I

live. I say, moreover, that the flowers that bloom over the garden

wall of party politics are the sweetest and most fragrant that bloom

in the gardens of this world; and where we can early pluck them and

enjoy their fragrance, it is manly and delightful to do so.

“And now, gentlemen of the General Assembly, without distinction of

party, I recognize this tribute and compliment made to me to-night.

Whatever my own course may be in the future, a large share of the

inspiration of my future public life will be drawn from this

occasion and these surroundings, and I shall feel anew the sense of

obligation that I owe to the State of Ohio. Let me venture to point

a single sentence in regard to that work. During the twenty years

that I have been in public life, almost eighteen of it in the

Congress of the United States, I have tried to do one thing. Whether

I was mistaken or otherwise, it has been the plan of my life to

follow my convictions at whatever personal cost to myself. I have

represented for many years a district in Congress whose approbation

I greatly desired; but though it may seem, perhaps, a little

egotistical to say it, I yet desired still more the approbation of

one person, and his name is Garfield. He is the only man that I am

compelled to sleep with, and eat with, and live with, and die with;

and if I could not have his approbation, I should have bad

companionship. And in this larger constituency which has called me

to represent them now, I can only do what is true to my best self,

applying the same rules. And if I should be so unfortunate as to

lose the confidence of this larger constituency, I must do what

every other fair-minded man has to do—carry his political life in

his hand and take the consequences. But I must follow what seems to

me to be the only safe rule of my life; and with that view of the

case, and with that much personal reference, I leave the subject.

“Thanking you again, fellow-citizens, members of the General

Assembly, Republicans and Democrats—all, party man as I am,—thanking

you both for what you have done and for this cordial and manly

greeting, I bid you good-night.”

The Life and Work of James A. Garfield, Twentieth President of the United States Embracing an Account of the Scenes and Incidents of His Boyhood; the Struggles of His Youth; the Might of His Early Manhood; His Valor As a Soldier; His Career As a Statesman; His Election to the Presidency; and the Tragic Story of His Death. · 第 9 / 18 章