last within sight of the city. Its defense was bravely conducted but ineffectual and, at last, on the morning of April 3, the "Stars and Stripes" were borne in triumph through the streets and flung once more to the breezes fresh from the South, where for four years the proud but ill-fated "St. Andrew's Cross" had flaunted.

Close upon the capitulation of Richmond followed. Appomattox and the shattered remnants of the gallant foe laid down their arms and their cause was lost forever. The fearful penalty of the nation's sin, conceived in her infancy and cherished and strengthened in her vigorous youth, was now paid and a united country was ready to take its place among the nations on a firmer basis and with grander prospects than ever before.

The conflict was inevitable. It had been begun at the time of the adoption of the Constitution. It had gained strength amid strife and mutual distrust. More than once it had broken out in open rebellion, and finally it burst like a tempest upon the land. It can hardly be believed that the election of Lincoln hastened secession, much less that it was the cause of it. The time had come and a pretext only was sought. In the dark days that succeeded his inauguration he was confronted with a situation whose difficulty had never been surpassed in the history of the country. Though few had believed him to be possessed of the elements of greatness he exhibited an adaptability to circumstances, a keenness of foresight and a readiness to adapt means to the accomplishment of a desired end that will undoubtedly rank him among the great rulers of the world. In his energy and versatility he

was the peer of Cæsar; in the magnitude of the operations which he conducted, he vied with Alexander; while his patience, persistence and devotion to the right were never excelled by Washington.

To what extent the success of the war was due to him cannot be estimated. The North was far stronger than the South, both in material resources and the men from whom armies are recruited. Her im. mense extent of seacoast, east and west, would have prevented a successful blockade; or, if successful, her vast domain of fertile territory would have rendered it nugatory. Her people were patriotic and devoted and equal, at least, man for man to their Southern brethren. On the other hand, they were taken unawares and were for the time helpless in the presence of armed rebellion. It was Lincoln who combined and utilized the giant forces, which were otherwise helpless, because without a rallying point. It was Lincoln who planned and organized, who encouraged the people in their gloom, and pointed out the way to victory, not only pointed it out but led the advance, often but a forlorn hope, until the desired end was attained. What Washington was to the Revolution Lincoln was to the Rebellion and more. More, because a domestic foe is more formidable than a foreign enemy; because the interests he controlled and conserved were immeasurably greater than those in the hands of Washington.

CHAPTER XIX.

NOWHERE in the management of the war did the Government show greater weakness than in the selection of commanders. It is hardly just to blame the President or his advisers exclusively for this. The difficulty was largely the result of circumstances, entirely beyond the control of the administration. In 1860 there were comparatively but few men, North or South, who were trained in the art of war. The Mexican War had been too short and on too limited a scale to educate many men in military tactics, and the officers of the regular army, in large part, deserted their colors to enlist in the Southern armies. Nor were the President and his Cabinet prepared for the emergency suddenly thrust upon them. Mr. Lincoln was obliged to feel his way slowly and carefully along an unknown track without precedent to guide him. It was evident that the proper man to guide and control the affairs of the great armies could be found only by experiment and in large measure must be educated up to his position. Mr. Lincoln realized most keenly the difficulties of the situation and exercised the utmost patience as long as he saw his appointees progressive and earnest He still continued to have faith in McClellan after the country had begun to clamor for his removal, and still upheld and offered him full

support if he would only make an effort to redeem his reputation.

His policy was vigorous and he earnestly advised and finally directed a general advance towards the centre of the Confederacy, and yet, in spite of all, he constantly saw his advice rejected and his plans disconcerted. No one will ever realize the keenness of his disappointment when he became convinced that he was mistaken in his man and that only disaster could be expected so long as McClellan remained at the head of the army. Nor was his disappointment entirely upon public grounds. He felt a sense of personal bereavement in the wholesale slaughter to which the army had been subjected and his grief was all the more poignant because he recognized the fact that much of it was unnecessary and useless. The suffering and misery occasioned by the war met him on every side. In Washington more than any other city of the North was the terrible physical suffering, the mutilation and sickness of the soldiers seen. The city was full of hospitals and the streets were thronged with ambulances bearing the sore-stricken soldiers from battlefield to hospital.

He once said to a friend, while gazing at a long line of ambulances, with an expression of deepest dejection on his face, "Look at those poor fellows, I cannot bear it! This suffering, this loss of life is dreadful!"

From his windows he could see the rebel flag floating at Arlington while the magnificent Union army lay idly upon its arms. Yet he seldom criticised the inactivity of McClellan, except in a humorous way.. He once said to a friend: "If McClellan does not

want to use the army for some days, I should like to borrow it and see if it cannot be made to do something." At another time he said: "General McClellan is a pleasant and scholarly gentleman. He is an admirable engineer, but he seems to have a special talent for a stationary engine."

After the battle of Antietam he visited the army with Hon. O. M. Hatch, a former Secretary of State of Illinois. He arose early in the morning and with Mr. Hatch walked out upon a hill and looked down upon the great expense of white tents extending as far as the eye could reach. As they looked upon the wonderful scene the deepest emotions were stirred within them as they thought of the multitudes, who were already sleeping their last long sleep on Southern soil, and the unknown but terrible possibilities of the future. The President suddenly leaned forward and said in a whisper:

"Hatch, Hatch, what is all this?"

"Why, Mr. Lincoln," said he, "that is the Army of the Potomac."

The President hesitated a moment, and then said: "No, Hatch, no. This is General McClellan's bodyguard."

Mr. Lincoln was often reproached for his levity and was often misjudged. People thought that he had but little feeling or appreciation of the gravity of the situation. As in many other things the people failed to understand the character of their President. The stories and humorous illustrations, which he constantly used in his conversation, were a relief to him and for the moment diverted his mind from the distressing responsibilities resting upon him, and, with