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cate a portion of it as the final resting-place of those who here gave their lives that a nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

"But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow, this ground. The brave men, living or dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above any power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here; but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work that they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us, that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they here highly resolved that the dead shall not have died in vain; that the nation shall, under God, have a new birth of freedom; and that the government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

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It is well known that the President was fond of a poem entitled

“Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud? ”

It is a poem, a love for which indicates a spirit of true humility on the part of one who prefers it. Mr. Carpenter says, "The circumstances under which this copy was written are these: I was with the President alone one evening in his room, during the time I was painting my (arge picture at the White House last year. He presently threw aside his pen and papers, and began to talk to me of Shakspeare. He sent little 'Tad,' his son, into the (ibrary to bring a copy of the plays, and then read to me several of his favorite passages, showing genuine appreciation of the great poet Relapsing into a sadder strain,

he laid his book aside, and, leaning back in his chair, said, 'There's a poem which has been a great favorite with me for years, which was first shown to me, when a young man, by a friend, and which I afterwards saw, and cut from a newspaper, and learned by heart. I would,' he continued, 'give a great deal to know who wrote it; but I have never been able to ascertain.'"

Then, half closing his eyes, he repeated to me the lines which I enclose to you. Greatly pleased and interested, I told him I would like, if ever an opportunity occurred, to write them down. He said he would some time try to give them to me. A few days afterward, he asked me to accompany him to the temporary studio of Mr. Swayne, the sculptor, who was making a bust of him at the Treasury Department. While he was sitting for the bust, I was suddenly reminded of the poem, and said to him that THEN would be a good time to dictate to me. He complied; and sitting upon some books at his feet, as nearly as I can remember, I wrote the lines down, one by one, as they fell from his lips." The first stanza reads thus:

"Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?
Like a fast-flitting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,
He passes from life to his rest in the grave."

The closing stanza is as follows:

"Tis the twink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath,
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud:
Oh! why should the spirit of mortal be proud?"

There may well be added to this chapter the following letter written by the President to Mrs. Eliza P. Gurney, an American lady, the widow of the late well-known

Friend and philanthropist, Joseph John Gurney, one of the wealthiest bankers of London:

"MY ESTEEMED FRIEND, I have not forgotten, probably never shall forget, the very impressive occasion when yourself and friends visited me on a sabbath forenoon two years ago. Nor had your kind letter, written nearly a year later, ever been forgotten. In all it has been your purpose to strengthen my reliance in God. I am much indebted to the good Christian people of the country for their constant prayers and consolations, and to no one of them more than to yourself. The purposes of the Almighty are perfect and must prevail, though we erring mortals may fail accurately to perceive them in advance. We hoped for a happy termination of this terrible war long before this; but God knows best, and has ruled otherwise. We shall yet acknowledge his wisdom and our own errors therein: meanwhile, we must work earnestly in the best lights he gives us, trusting that so working still conduces to the great end he ordains. Surely he intends some great good to follow this mighty commotion, which no mortal could make, and no mortal could stay.

"Your people, the Friends, have had, and are having, very great trials, on principles and faith opposed to both war and oppression. They can only practically oppose oppression by war. In this hard dilemma, some have chosen one horn, and some the other.

"For those appealing to me on conscientious grounds, I have done, and shall do, the best I could and can, in my own conscience, under my oath to the law. That you believe this, I doubt not; and, believing it, I shall still receive for our country and myself your earnest prayers to our Father in heaven.

"Your sincere friend,

A. LINCOLN."

In closing this record of the Christian words and deeds of our late President, it may be well to add that many more incidents might be given, did the limits of this vol ume allow. Enough has been given to show, that, whatever his peculiar belief on religious topics of a doctrinal character, at heart and in his life he was a child of God, and "lived religion."

"For modes of faith, let graceless zealots fight:
His can't be wrong whose life is in the right."

President Lincoln's life was right. He was ever giv. ing the cup of cold water; and, verily, he shall receive a righteous man's reward.

Pope's "Essay on Man."

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"But the Lord said unto him, Go thy way, for he is a chosen vessel unto me; for I will show him how great things he must suffer for my name's sake." ACTS ix. 15, 16.

...

In the sixth chapter, the course pursued by the President during the troublous times in which he governed was traced up to a certain point; though, designedly, not as minutely as a history of those times would require. The succeeding chapters have had reference more particularly to the man whom God gave to those times. Reference will now be had, briefly, to the course of events. These were of various character; sometimes bright with victory, sometimes shadowed with defeat.

"The ten months which divide the fall of Fort Donelson (Feb. 16, 1862) from the battle of Fredericksburg (Dec. 13, 1862) constitute the depressing era of military uncertainty. Administrative ability, executive resolution and hardihood, were never more impressively displayed than during this disheartening period; but, in spite of it, inconstant victory seemed to vibrate between the hostile banners.

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