give. He had a very effective way of dealing with such people. A visitor once asked him how many

men the Confederates had in the field. The President answered, very seriously, "Twelve hundred thousand, according to the best authority." The questioner was thunderstruck, for everything about the President's manner indicated that he was in earnest. "Yes, sir," said Mr. Lincoln, "twelve hundred thousandno doubt of it. You see, all of our generals, when they get whipped, say the enemy outnumbered them, from three or five to one, and I must believe them. We have four hundred thousand men in the field, and three times four makes twelve. Don't you see?"

After the appearance of the rebel ram Merrimac in 1862, the President was waited upon by fifty gentlemen from New York who informed him that they represented in their own right $100,000,000 and who were greatly alarmed at the comparatively defenseless condition of New York. After magnifying as much as possible, the cause of their apprehension, they requested that a gunboat be detailed for the defense of the city. Mr. Lincoln listened very attentively to their statements and seemed much impressed by them. When they had finished, he replied, very deliberately:

"Gentlemen, I am by the Constitution Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy of the United States; and, as a matter of law, can order anything done that is practicable to be done. But, as a matter of fact, I am not in command of the gunboats or ships of war; as a matter of fact, I do not know exactly where they are, but presume they are actively engaged. It is impossible for me, in the present con

The

dition of things, to furnish you a gunboat. credit of the Government is at a very low ebb; greenbacks are not worth more than forty or fifty cents on the dollar; and in this condition of things, if I was worth half as much as you gentlemen are represented to be, and as badly frightened as you seem to be, I would build a gunboat and give it to the Government."

One day in the spring of 1862, a gentlemen made a very earnest request for a pass to Richmond. "A pass to Richmond," exclaimed the President, "why, my dear sir, if I should give you one it would do you no good. You may think it very strange, but there's a lot of fellows between here and Richmond, who either can't read or are prejudiced against every man who totes a pass from me. I have given McClellan and more than two hundred thousand others passes to Richmond, and not a single one of them has gotten there yet."

Although of a sensitive disposition, Mr. Lincoln never permitted himself to be disturbed by violent criticism or denunciation. To show how much attention he paid to the attacks made upon him, he once told the following story:

"Some years ago," said he, "a couple of immigrants fresh from the 'Emerald Isle,' seeking labor, were making their way towards the West. Coming suddenly one evening upon a pond of water, they were greeted with a grand chorus of bull-frogs-a kind of music they had never before heard. Overcome with terror, they clutched their 'shillalahs,' and crept cautiously forward, straining their eyes in every direction to catch a glimpse of the enemy; but

he was not to be found. At last a happy idea seized the foremost one-he sprang to his companion and exclaimed, 'An' sure, Jamie, it's my opinion it's nothing but a noise.'

On one occasion, while a great battle was being fought and he was waiting anxiously for news, he entered the room where a Christian lady was engaged in nursing a member of the family, looking worn and haggard and saying he was so anxious that he could eat nothing. The possibility of defeat depressed him greatly; but the lady told him that he must have faith, and that he could at least pray. "Yes," said he, and taking up a Bible he started to his room. Shortly afterwards a telegram was received announcing a victory. He immediately re-entered the room, his face beaming with joy and said: "Good news! Good news! The victory is ours, and God is good."

"Nothing like prayer," suggested the pious lady, who believed the news to be the direct result of the prayer.

"Yes there is," he replied-" praise-prayer and praise."

The lady afterwards said: "I do believe he was a true Christian, though he had very little confidence in himself."

CHAPTER XVII.

WHEN the Southern States decided upon secession, they staked the institution of slavery upon the result of the war. If they were to be victorious it was their purpose to found a slave republic. If they were defeated the penalty could be nothing less than its abolition, how much more-they hardly realized. Many eager Sprits of the North felt that the issue should be squarely met and decided at once and they called upon the President to issue an emancipation edict without delay. As time passed on and the course of the war seemed to be unfavorable to the national cause, the demand became stronger that the President should make the issue a distinctive one between slavery and freedom. Not only was he constantly beset with advice and entreaty and sometimes with a vehemence which almost changed the prayers to threats, but a number of strong, influential Republican papers began to reproach him for his hesitancy which some went so far as to denominate moral cowardice.

No Republican paper took a more decided stand or found more fault with Mr. Lincoln on this score than the New York Tribune. Mr. Greeley was, beyond question, a true patriot, and had the best interests of the country, as he conceived them, at heart. Both his disposition and environment were peculiar. He

had always been in favor of Abolition and he seems now to have become convinced that the affairs of the country were faring ill and that its only salvation consisted in creating a moral issue, which would rally to its support all right-minded patriots. He manifested' both impatience and petulance at the course of the President and strove in every way to compel him to adopt his own views. But Mr. Lincoln's perceptions were much clearer than those of Mr. Greeley, and his judgment calmer. He listened patiently and attentively but he could not be persuaded to change his policy against his own judgment and more clearly than any-one else could, did he apprehend the part which he was to play in the great drama. His duty was not to be guided by the dictates of sentiment, . however elevated, nor to preserve one institution and overthrow another. He realized that he was the representative of the soverign people and that his powers and privileges were strictly defined by a most solemn obligation, which he had voluntarily taken upon himself and he summoned all the strength of his resolution to his aid to keep inviolate his oath of office. He had solemnly sworn to preserve the Constitution and this meant the perpetuation of the Government and the uninvaded rights of the people.

In a letter to Mr. Greeley in reply to one ungenerously chiding him, he stated clearly his views upon this subject, as follows:

". . . As to the policy 'I seem to be pursuing' as you say, 'I have not meant to leave any one in doubt.' I would save the Union. I would save it in the shortest way under the Constitution. The sooner the national authority can be restored the sooner the