Publication information
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Source: Brightside Idyls
Source type: book
Document type: essay
Document title: “A Cloudy Day”
Author(s): Smith, James Power
Publisher: Central Presbyterian
Place of publication: Richmond, Virginia
Year of publication: 1904
Pagination: 102-03

Smith, James Power. “A Cloudy Day.” Brightside Idyls. Richmond: Central Presbyterian, 1904: pp. 102-03.
full text of essay; excerpt of book
McKinley assassination (personal response); McKinley assassination (religious response).
Named persons
From title page: Brightside Idyls: Every Week of the Year.


A Cloudy Day

NOT all our days are bright and sunny. Sometimes the clouds gather and hide the face of the sun. The heavens are hung with gloom as with the drapery of sorrow. All the world is darkened, and the spirits are depressed. Joy is confined, and happiness and confidence are banished. Apprehensions come in, and fears are felt of storm and possible destruction. We are not at our best on a cloudy day. We are troubled and beset with weakness, and our eyes cannot see afar off.
     It is a cloudy day in the home when sickness threatens one of the household, and then death comes to the door. It is no time for song or music, and not the dearest friends can be entertained in the parlor. The blinds are closed, and dark badges of mourning are hung at the door. All the house is subdued and every heart is grieved. We can scarcely think how we can go on in life without the one we have loved and lost. What can we do but betake ourselves to prayer and submission to God, and petitions for grace to uphold and comfort? [102][103]
     It is a dark day to the American people when their President is slain by an assassin. There is not only indignation, but a keen sense of mortification. The affliction is sorely felt as the removal in the midst of his honor and usefulness of the one at the helm, directing the ship of State with a hand strong and wise. In a land of freedom and enlightenment, in a year of abundance and prosperity, when our institutions are admired and imitated, and our peace and happiness are envied in all the world, it is indeed a mysterious providence that anarchy should rise up to smite the head of the nation. And all are smitten and grieved.
     The capital is in mourning. Everywhere the people assemble in their churches, and from under the cloud acknowledge the hand of God, holy and just and true in all his ways. It is not a time for mistrust, or fear, or apprehension. No one man, however strong and good, is essential to the welfare of his country. Man dies, but institutions live. Above all, beyond the clouds, God lives and rules in righteousness and wisdom and love. “Alleluia! for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.”



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