leadership in a four-years death struggle between five millions of men-required to mould and fashion the emancipator of a race from constitutionally secured and judicially confirmed bondage.

And thus, into the web and woof of the rehabilitated nation is not only interwoven the patient labor, heart sorrows and tragic end of Abraham Lincoln, and the ephemeral glitter, long remorse, mental darkness and melancholy death of Mary Lincoln, but likewise the "sickening pains of hope deferred" the pangs of despised love-the trysting-exchange of lover's vows-mental anguish-heart-breaking sorrowspathetic romance-and untimely death of the fair, modest and winsome ANN RUTLEDGE-"the beautiful and tender dead."

VIII.

LINCOLN AS A "MERRY ANDREW."

"I laugh because I must not weep-that's all, that's all!" (Sadly.) -PRESIDENT LINCOLN.

"Lincoln's stories were merely devices to whistle down sadness." -JUDGE DAVIS. was a rich gift to this wise -EMERSON.

"His 'broad, good humor man."

His powers as a story-teller can never be appreciated by those who did not know him personally. In our walks about the little towns where courts were held, he saw ludicrous elements in everything, and could either narrate some story from his store-house of jokes, else he could improvise one; he saw the ludicrous in an assemblage of fowls, in a man spading his garden, in a clothes-line full of clothes, in a group of boys, in a lot of pigs rooting at a mill door, in a mother duck learning her brood to swim; in anything and everything Lincoln saw some ludicrous incident; but his wit never wounded any one; his stories had no barb nor sting, and did not leave upon the hearer any impression that the narrator was either trifling, frivolous or light-minded.

There was a zest and bouquet about his stories when narrated by himself that could not be translated or tran

scribed. One might as well attempt to reproduce the eloquence of Mr. Clay or the flaming anger of General Jackson. The story may be retold literally, every word, period and comma, but the real humor perished with Lincoln.

No one could relate a story without reminding him of a similar one, and if a good story-teller was present; he was more than willing to divide the time. He was as much amused as any of his hearers at his own stories, and laughed more heartily than any one; he provoked as much laughter by the grotesque expression of his homely face as by the abstract fun of his stories.

Lawyers, politicians and statesmen have pondered in vain attempts to explain the rationale of this wonderful trait. There was a charm about his story-telling that was captivating and irresistible, and which it was impossible to describe or explain. He never ran out of a stock, and his stories, no matter how frequently repeated, never grew stale or dull by repetition. Whenever he attempted to illustrate a point or a subject, by an anecdote, he always succeeded. His storie; were never mal apropos. I never knew him to offend or shock his auditors by a story unless he designed, as he occasionally did, to impress some particular individual. He tempered his stories to the style and character of his audience. He never offended a crowd of roystering boys, or wild western lawyers, with esthetic stories; and he caused no assemblage of ladies or ascetic males to blush at anything which should not be mentioned to ears polite. He would frequently improvise his stories, and some of his most comical efforts were of impromptu wit. In addition to the pastime afforded by his story-telling, there was a double utility in it, in withdrawing his mind from brooding melancholy, and from the severe mental strain which, unless relieved, would have broken him down; and also in concealing his intentions and views in a mode not suggestive of secrecy or calculated to produce disagreeable impressions.

This utility is graphically expressed by Emerson, thus: