the National Constitution was put into operation with all its uncertain constructions and its innumerable undefined meanings, it was a Virginian of unequalled legal sagacity and remarkable discernment, who gave direction to that instrument. This man, who more than any other living statesman stamped the correct seal upon our national destiny, was the scholar, patriot, and ever-famed John Marshall of Virginia. Thus Southerners of a national spirit practically shaped our Lincoln for the superhuman task of saving the Union of States. Their writings, their eloquent words, and clear documents of state prepared Lincoln to appreciate the oratorical efforts of Webster and Hayne in their fiery contests for their respective sections; and, when the great cloud of secession came on the horizon, none in the broad land was more capable of seeing hope or seeing light in the scenes of war about to take effect. We have just celebrated his matchless debates with the "Little Giant," Stephen A. Douglas, and we are still filled with admiration for his cool, collected, and logical arguments in favor of the Constitution and Union of the forefathers. He demonstrated to an expectant general public that while he might not be generally known, he nevertheless was generally informed. The Douglas defeat which brought to the surface the literary ability of Lincoln was the beginning of much distress for him. He was sought as the presidential candidate, and to permit the far East to enjoy itself, some editors proposed to invite Lincoln to New York "and let us hear what this backwoodsman knows of the Constitution." Every one was asked to

come to the Cooper Union speech. "It will be a rare treat," they wrote. "Lincoln is a queer fellow; his clothes are shabby, ill-fitting, and his long hair unkempt. But come out to see him; this ungainly lawyer when he walks down Broadway in his unstyled suit, will bring hysteria to all New York."

Yes, he brought hysteria to old New York, but of a far different kind than they had expected. He came to the gathering. He was introduced to a curiously interested audience. He stood in an ungainly manner; his face seemed

all bones, and homely; his hair did hang carelessly about his head, and his deeply sunken eyes hid behind shaggy eyebrows. The crowds scanned him critically. The editors had painted him in proper hues, and in truth they would be entertained in a novel and most odd fashion. Lincoln, from the first sentence, seemed to arouse laughter; he gained their attention, and as he progressed in the vivid description of the evolution, construction, and meaning of the Declaration of Independence, supplemented by his graphic analysis of the basic law of the land-our Constitution-he awakened hearty response. The hearers were amazed at his language; they were spellbound by his clinching arguments; they eagerly drank in the eloquence and all forgot his physical pose. They now saw the real man. With flush of cheek, the brow symbolizing intelligence, the eyes aglow with fires of truth, and in all a giant of the rostrum, amid storms of applause he stood defending the heritage of from Lexington to Yorktown.

The Gettysburg Address, this day presented to the Chicago Public Library, is on copper, and, like the metal upon which it is embossed, will not corrode in our memory. It is doubtless one of our truly American literary pearls. The occasion upon which Lincoln gave it, has features which appeal to us all. The terrible Battles of Gettysburg-fought on July 1, 2, and 3, of '63-brought sorrow to more homes than any battle in modern times. Thirty-four thousand wearing the gray and twenty-three thousand clothed in the blue died in the struggle to rear their beloved colors-in anguish, in madness, and in superhuman defiance, died in defence of their flag. About a hundred days later the nation dedicated on this battlefield a cemetery. The occasion was memorable; hundreds of thousands of the admiring living would be there to witness the event, and the most distinguished orator in all the land was invited to deliver the address of the day. The orator, Edward Everett, was chosen, and the day of dedication at hand, when one of the Committee perchance thought of inviting Abraham Lincoln to be present; some other venturous committeemen ventured the suggestion that Lincoln be asked to make a talk. This fell on approving ears.

Statue of Abraham Lincoln by Augustus Saint-Gaudens, 1907

(A gift to the South Side of Chicago, to be erected by the Trustees of the Crerar Fund. Not yet unveiled. Reproduced by permission of the

Trustees of the Crerar Fund)

objection quickly came, "He will hardly expect that, and moreover, before such an august audience he will not be heard, and we want this to be the occasion of master-effort oratory." The people gathered. The great and eminent were present. Lincoln had finally been invited; but he was allowed to understand that the eminent, the distinguished and flowery Edward Everett, would be expected to consume such time as he desired. The far-famed orator from New England was introduced. He proceeded with all the knowledge of oratory to gather the auditory admiration; he was painting beautiful scenes; he was designing carefully studied equations of eloquence; he was delving into ancient history, bringing to the surface the beauties of the ruins of the old world, and seemed in a serene atmosphere of all that was rhetorical-learned, scholarly, and poetic. His discourse lasted one hour and a half, and the assemblage had truly heard a great man. Then the humble, the somewhat shunned President of the United States was introduced. He calmly, yet with a depth of sadness never equalled, came forward. His bowed head was weary of the strife; his eyes had wept bitter tears of sorrow; his noble soul had suffered untold agonies during the days that Gettysburg resounded with cannonading. He stood erect, and, in a majestic and almost divine attitude, began that grand summary of our history. His Address lasted just four minutes, during which time he pictured plainly the settlement period, then the Revolutionary epoch, then the Constitutional career of this great nation. He followed up with the struggle at Gettysburg; reassured the living and the martyred that the dead had not died in vain; climaxed the scene with renewed devotion to liberty, and proclaimed the everlasting reign of our freedom. The world little remembers what Everett said that day. His logic, his conclusions, and all the bright colors of that canvas have darkened and almost faded away; but the living shades from the eloquent lips of Lincoln-they livethey will continue to grow more clearly and take on their true harmonies as the days enter the portals of our eastern shores, the youth of the land eagerly drink in their meaning;