Excerpt from In Memoriam: James A. Garfield, Born Nov; 19, 1831; Assassinated July 2, 1881 When thought is stirred and feeling will have its way, then there is no choice left for those of us who are called by the voice of the Church to occupy its pulpit, but to bring the commonthought and feeling, as far as we know it, into judgment, and inquire whether it be good or bad - whether it be intelligent or ignorant whether it be Christian or unchristian? At the very outset I admit that from the Skeptic's point of View, so very limited as it is, there is no consolation to be had from such an event as this of the late President's assassi nation. Much otherwise. If life begin with birth and end with that we call death, then the skeptic and infidel are entirely right when they say that we are at the mercy of chance, fate, or whatever you choose to call that power which we cannot successfully resist, and which from day to day we have to dodge. It is strange passing strange, that the pistol of a wily assassin should have in it such power, that in the very prime of his manhood, just entering on the day of his highest and noblest opportunity, one of the most trusted men among us, should be cut off with all his blushing honors thick upon him, and when it seemed to us we needed his courage and wisdom and experience to lead the nation to a healthier and higher plane of national life. I am not at all surprised that skeptics should ask, where is now your God? Have we not ourselves groaned in spirit and asked, '0 Lord, why dost Thou permit this? Wherefore is Thyhand so heavy upon us?' Have not Christian hearts lodged their objections against it in the form of remonstrative prayer? There are times in life when even the least rebellious and most submissive of God's children are compelled to confess their entire inability to understand the divine permission. He who of old said, I was dumb; I opened not my month because Thou didst it was in the posture which oftentimes it becomes us to occupy the only attitude possible to us - that of reverent. Silence; remem bering ever what.

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