and I wish all men would write to me as candidly as you have done. . . . I will write to General Wilson and request him to burn my Lincoln letters to him. I have never opened to any person, except yourself and General Wilson, the story of Lincoln's history. My motives were good in doing as I did. I wished to throw light on the mysterious phases of his wonderful life. I loved Lincoln, and I thought the reading world wished all the lights I had. Hence the facts told in the biography and in private letters. I may have erred in the head, but my heart was right. I can tell from the ring of your words that friendship dictated every word of your advice, and I thank you. Give my highest regards to your wife and children.

November, 1890: I have received a letter from General Wilson in which he says: "I recognize the wisdom of your wishes and will destroy your letters." . . . In my last letter I unintentionally touched a tender chord in your bosom. Excuse me. I have passed through the same and know what the loss of a good wife is. Friend, we can bring life into the world, but we cannot keep it here: it will vanish, we know not where, and this thing we call immortality, is it not a shadow of our egotism thrown into the future? It gratifies this little man to think that Nature takes providential care of him and destroys all else for the sake of him.

February, 1891: I am still diligently gathering wellauthenticated facts about Lincoln. Many I reject, because they are not in harmony with the fundamental elements of his nature, and because they come to me in unauthentic shapes. I expect to continue gathering facts about Lincoln as long as I live, and when I go hence the reading world shall have my Mss. unchanged, unaltered, just as I took them down. I think that they will be of value to mankind sometime. I have been at this business since 1865. Every day I think of some fact, and it suggests other facts. The human mind is a curious thing. I have been sick all winter. One month later, on March 14, 1891, Mr. Herndon died at his humble home on his farm five miles from Springfield, his last words being: "I have received my summons; I am an overripe sheaf; but I will take the weaker one with me"- referring to his son, who died the same day. So passed an ardent, impetuous man of great native ability, radical of mind but lovable of soul; a strong man whose zeal often exceeded his wisdom, but whose charity was unfailing; a man of noble

integrity as a citizen, a lawyer, and a friend; unwilling to compromise truth, yet eager to give every man his due. He has been cruelly misjudged, if not foully belied, but all this may be forgotten, for he has passed

"To where, beyond these voices, there is peace."

CHAPTER X

Herndon's Lincoln

To attain the rank of an ex

Lincoln literature is enormous. pert in this field means years of toil, but one who is not an expert may hazard the opinion that, in spite of all that has been written, we yet lack a thoroughly satisfactory book about the life and work and character of Lincoln.1 Some few have had the necessary knowledge and sympathy, but their literary power was inadequate. Others have written well, but they have failed of understanding. Many of the books about Lincoln are worthless, some are valuable, a few are notable, but an adequate record and estimate of that remarkable man is among the things awaited. So far no writer of the first order

has attempted to recite that strange yet simple story. No one has done for Lincoln what Morley did for Gladstone, either because we have so few literary statesmen, or because the time has not arrived.

In the meantime the volume of facts, impressions, and reminiscences of Lincoln increases, and through an assembling of items in a variety of ways we are coming to a composite conception of the man that is at once vivid and satisfying. That so many have written of him is a tribute to his hold upon the affections of men, for it has not fallen to his lot to become 1 Perhaps the mass of Lincoln literature would number 5,000 items, which of course includes many pamphlets - a veritable paradise for collectors. Lincoln in 1854, by Horace White, pp. 22-3 (1908). What is here said is not intended to belittle any biographer or student of Lincoln, but surely no one will claim that the final biography of him has been written. Probably the best brief biographies are those by Hapgood, Morse, and Binns, in the order named. It is matter for regret that Henry Watterson did not finish his biography of Lincoln, which no doubt would have been a memorable volume. He had gone abroad to write it, but was called home by the exigences of the campaign of 1896.

a mere statue in the hall of memory, but to remain warmly human, almost as if he had lived on through the years; and happily no artist has ironed all the human wrinkles out of his rugged, homely face. But we need a really great biography of Lincoln, whose pages, while portraying the development of his life, shall be invested with the atmosphere of his personality; and for such a work the canvass, the colors, and the cleared light of time are ready for the touch of a master hand.

I

As to the Herndon biography, it is worth while to study its spirit, purpose, and methods, if for no other reason, to learn his conception of a man whom he had studied for forty years.1 Had he written it in 1866, as he had planned to do, perhaps it would have had more fire in it, more of the glow and color of that strange personality which swayed him, at times, like a religious experience. Misfortune, however, prevented him, and much of his materials went into other books. Despite this loss, he gained much by a longer perspective and a calmer vision, though he never passed from under that "long-enduring spell," no matter how hard he tried to free himself from it, as he thought he must do, in behalf of a more unbiased judgment. Many of the manuscript notes from which the biography was written are before me, and they show how fresh the great memory was upon him, how carefully he sought to describe it, how eager he was to be just, how patiently he

1 Of the biographies published during his lifetime, Mr. Herndon regarded that by Lamon as, on the whole, the truest, though he was aware of its grave defects (Ms. "Statement: a Memorandum, Jan., 1886''). Holland was too romantic, Arnold too credulous, while Nicolay and Hay glossed over many things in the early life of Lincoln. He followed the Nicolay-Hay series in the Century, and his verdict was that "the boys," as he called them - for such they were to him- had done good work, though some of their theories amused him (Ms. letters to Mr. Weik, Jan., 1887). He was a generous critic, however, knowing how hard it was to explain Lincoln; that is, when any student was sincerely trying to know the truth. But for some others he had no mercy, and asked none.

labored to be accurate. When the first edition appeared in 1889, the Atlantic Monthly said in an excellent review:

We think we are not mistaken in looking upon Herndon's Lincoln as a most timely and valuable contribution to a just understanding of that great man, even though much of it in a preliminary form appears to have found place originally in Lamon's Life. Considered only as a memoire pour sevoir, it is of unmistakable service. It bears the marks of patient and painstaking labor in gathering all the facts regarding Lincoln's origin and early years; and when the reader considers that Mr. Herndon was Lincoln's law partner for twenty years; that he made his acquaintance as far back as 1837; that he lived amongst Lincoln's early companions, and, so to speak, spoke the Illinois language, it is easy to see how important may be his testimony. In addition, the open-minded reader can scarcely read this artless book without feeling a growing confidence in Mr. Herndon's honesty and accuracy. The very offenses against good taste show him to be a good witness, and it has many charms for cultivated readers through the very homeliness of its narrative. To any one who wishes to know the truth about Lincoln, at whatever cost to illusions, this book is invaluable and suggestive.

No one knew better than Mr. Herndon that he was not the man to write the final biography of Lincoln. He lacked, as he frankly confessed, the necessary literary skill for such an undertaking, caring "less for the composition than for the solid substance;" but he recognized the obligation upon him to furnish the raw material from which some future artist might evoke a work of beauty. His idea was that the real Lincoln should be portrayed just as he was in life, struggle, and growth, without idealization or degradation, full length, no fact omitted, no angle smoothed away. If in his own record he stood so straight that he leaned a little backward, it was characteristic of a man to whom Lincoln was too great, too honest, and too noble for mere eulogy, and who was certain that "the more truth we know about him the more he will be honored and loved." Surely this was a truer tribute than the portrayal of an ideally impossible or impossibly ideal Lin