sans who want to see a
President combining intellectual ability with learning, experience, and
ripe statesmanship."

The prediction recorded above was fulfilled. On the second of November,
1880, James A. Garfield was elected President of the United States.

Had this been a story of the imagination, such as I have often written,
I should not have dared to crown it with such an ending. In view of my
hero's humble beginnings, I should expect to have it severely
criticised as utterly incredible, but reality is oftentimes stranger
than romance, and this is notably illustrated in Garfield's wonderful
career.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE NEW ADMINISTRATION.

On the evening of March 3d, preceding the inauguration, the
President-elect met twenty of his college classmates at supper at
Wormley's Hotel, in Washington, and mutual congratulations were
exchanged. He was the first President of the United States selected from
among the graduates of Williams College, and all the alumni, but more
especially the class of 1856, were full of pride and rejoicing. From
none probably were congratulations more welcome to the new President
than from his old academic associates. If I transcribe the speech which
Gen. Garfield made upon that occasion it is because it throws a light
upon his character and interprets the feelings with which he entered
upon the high office to which his countrymen had called him:

"CLASSMATES: To me there is something exceedingly pathetic in this
reunion. In every eye before me I see the light of friendship and love,
and I am sure it is reflected back to each one of you from my inmost
heart. For twenty-two years, with the exception of the last few days, I
have been in the public service. To-night I am a private citizen.
To-morrow I shall be called to assume new responsibilities, and on the
day after, the broadside of the world's wrath will strike. It will
strike hard. I know it, and you will know it. Whatever may happen to me
in the future, I shall feel that I can always fall back upon the
shoulders and hearts of the class of '56 for their approval of that
which is right, and for their charitable judgment wherein I may come
short in the discharge of my public duties. You may write down in your
books now the largest percentage of blunders which you think I will be
likely to make, and you will be sure to find in the end that I have made
more than you have calculated--many more.

"This honor comes to me unsought.