ward those who had deserted and endeavored to destroy him is without parallel in the political history of the world. This magnanimity made his success not only possible, but certain.

Vallandigham was a friend of the South, an enemy of the North. He did what he could to sow the seeds of failure. He had far more courage than intelligencemore cunningthan patriotism. For the most part he was actuated by political malice. He was tried and convicted and sentenced to imprisonment in Fort Warren. Lincoln disapproved of the findings, changed the punishment, and with a kind of grim humor sent Mr. Vallandihgham "to his friends in the South." Those who regarded the act as unconstitutional almost forgave it for the sake of its humor.

Horace Greeley always had the idea that he was greatly superior to Lincoln, and for a long time he insisted that the people of the North and the people of the South desired peace. He took it upon himself to lecture Lincoln, and felt that he in some way was responsible for the conduct of the war. Lincoln, with that wonderful sense of humor united with shrewdness and profound wisdom, told Mr. Greeley that if the South really wanted peace he (Lincoln) desired the same thing, and was doing all he could to bring it about. Greeley insisted that a commissioner should be appointed, with authority to negotiate with the representatives of the Confederacy. This was Lincoln's opportunity. He authorized Greeley to act as such commissioner. The great editor felt that he was caught. For a time he hesitated, but finally went, and found that the Southern commissioners were willing to take into consideration any offers of peace that

Lincoln might make. The failure of Greeley was humiliating and the position in which he was left absurd.

Again the humor of Lincoln had triumphed.

One of the most wonderful and unfortunate things ever done by Lincoln was the promotion of General Hooker. After the battle of Fredericksburg General Burnsides found great fault with Hooker, and wished to have him removed from the Army of the Potomac. proved of Burnside's order, and gave mand of the Army of the Potomac. Hooker the memorable letter:

Lincoln disapHooker the comHe then wrote

"I have placed you at the head of the Army of the Potomac. Of course I have done this upon what ap pears to me to be sufficient reasons, and yet I think it best for you to know that there are some things in regard to which I am not quite satisfied with you. I believe you to be a brave and skillful soldier-which, of course, I like. I also believe you do not mix politics with your profession—in which you are right. You have confidence in yourself-which is valuable, if not an indispensable quality. You are ambitious-which, within reasonable bounds, does good rather than harm. But I think that during General Burnside's command of the army you have taken counsel of your ambition to thwart him as much as you could-in which you did a great wrong to the country and to a most meritorious and honorable brother officer. I have heard, in such a way as to believe it, of your recently saying that both the army and the government needed a dictator. Of course it was not for this, but in spite of it, that I have given you the command. Only those generals who gain successes can

set up dictators. What I now ask of you is military successes, and I will risk the dictatorship. The government will support you to the utmost of its ability, which is neither more nor less than it has done and will do for all commanders. I much fear that the spirit which you have aided to infuse into the army, of criticising their commander and withholding confidence in him, will now turn upon you. I shall assist you, as far as I can, to put it down. Neither you, nor Napoleon, if he were alive again, can get any good out of an army while such a spirit prevails in it. And now beware of rashness. Beware of rashness, but with energy and sleepless vigilance go forward and give us victories."

This letter has, in my judgment, no parallel. The mistaken magnanimity is almost equal to the prophecy:

"I much fear that the spirit which you have aided to infuse into the army of criticising their commander and withholding confidence in him will now turn upon you.”

A great actor can be known only when he has assumed the principal character in a great drama. Possibly the greatest actors have never appeared, and it may be the greatest soldiers have lived the lives of perfect peace. Lincoln assumed the leading part of the greatest drama ever acted upon the stage of a continent.

His criticisms of military movements, his correspondence with his generals and others on the conduct of the war, show that he was at all times master of the situation that he was a natural strategist, that he appreciated the difficulties and advantages of every kind, and that in "the still and mental" field of war he stood the peer of any man beneath the flag. Had McClellan followed his advice he would have taken Richmond. Had Hooker

acted in accordance with his suggestions Chancellorsville would have been a victory for us.

Lincoln's political prophecies were always fulfilled. We know now that he not only stood at the top, but that he occupied the center, from the first to the last, and that he did this by reason of his intelligence, his humor, his philosophy, his courage, and his patriotism.

He lived to hear the shout of victory. He lived until the Confederacy died—until Lee had surrendered, until Davis had fled, until the doors of Libby Prison were opened, until the Republic was free.

He lived until Lincoln and liberty were united forever. He lived until there remained nothing for him to do as great as he had done.

What he did was worth living for, worth dying for. He lived until he stood in the midst of universal joy, beneath the outstretched wings of peace-the foremost man in all the world.

And then the horror came.

Night fell on noon. The savior of the Republic, the breaker of chains, the liberator of millions, he who had "assured freedom to the free," was dead.

Upon his brow Fame had placed the immortal wreath. For the first time in the history of the world a Nation bowed and wept.

The memory of Lincoln is the strongest, tenderest tie that binds all hearts together now, and holds all States beneath a Nation's flag.

Strange mingling of mirth and tears, of the tragic and grotesque, of cap and crown, of Socrates and Democritus, of Æsop and Marcus Aurelius, of all that is gentle and just, humorous and honest, merciful, wise, laughable,