It is the morning after the fateful fourteenth of April, 1865. From the Atlantic shore to the Pacific the whole startled nation is in the wildest state of excitement. President Lincoln, with the glorious words of Emancipation still warm upon his lips, has been shot down by the hand of Booth. The newsboys shout through the streets that Seward is dying--that the lives of other Government officers have been assailed! A furious mob rules the thoroughfares of New York and clamors for revenge. One man who is suspected of rebel sentiments is shot dead on the spot; another instant and his adversary lies beside him in the gutter. "To the _World_! To the office of the _World_!" shout the rabble, bearing high above their heads a roughly constructed gallows. Suddenly, a tall, manly figure steps forward with a small flag in his hand. "Another telegram from Washington!" exclaims a chorus of excited voices. A dead silence follows, and then, with a reverential glance heavenward, the stranger begins in clear, deep tones,-- "Fellow-citizens! clouds and darkness are round about Him. His pavilion is dark waters and thick clouds of the skies. Justice and judgment are the establishment of His throne. Mercy and truth shall go before His face. Fellow citizens, God reigns, and the Government at Washington still lives!" An eye-witness writes of the memorable scene: "The crowd stood riveted to the ground with awe, gazing at the motionless orator, and thinking of God and the security of the Government in that hour. As the boiling wave subsides and settles to the sea, when some strong wind beats it down, so the tumult of the people sank and became still. All took it as a divine omen. It was a triumph of eloquence, inspired by the moment, such as falls to but one man's lot, and that but once in a century. The genius of Webster, Choate, Everett, Seward, never reached it. What might have happened had the surging and maddened crowd been let loose, none can tell. The man for the crisis was on the spot, more potent than Napoleon's guns at Paris. I inquired what was his name. The answer came in a low whisper, 'It is General Garfield of Ohio!'" "_God reigns; and the Government at Washington still lives!_" With what majestic eloquence those immortal words come back to us to-day! With what quickened sympathies we re-read his grand eulogy delivered a year later in Congress, upon Abraham Lincoln, the martyred president! Have not the American people repeated one of those "times in the history of men and nations when they stand so near the veil that separates mortals from immortals, time from eternity, and men from their God, that they can almost hear the beatings and feel the pulsations of the heart of the Infinite?"