close to the grass. You must sit by the fireside of the heart above the clouds it is too cold. You must be simple in your speech: too much polish suggests insincerity. The great orator idealizes the real, transfigures the common, makes even the inanimate throb and thrill, fills the gallery of the imagination with statues and pictures perfect in form and color, brings to light the gold hoarded by memory, the miser-shows the glittering coin to the spendthrift, hope-enriches the brain, ennobles the heart, and quickens the conscience. Between his lips, words bud and blossom.

If you wish to know the difference between an orator and an elocutionist-between what is felt and what is said-between what the heart and brain can do together and what the brain can do alone-read Lincoln's wondrous words at Gettysburg, and then the speech of Edward Everett. The oration of Lincoln will never be forgotten. It will live until languages are dead and lips are dust. The speech of Everett will never be read. The elocutionists believe in the virtue of voice, the sublimity of syntax, the majesty of long sentences, and the genius of gesture. The orator loves the real, the simple, the natural. He places the thought above all. He knows that the greatest ideas should be expressed in the shortest words-that the greatest statues need the least drapery.

Lincoln was an immense personality-firm but not obstinate. Obstinacy is egotism-firmness, heroism. Hé influenced others without effort, unconsciously; and they submitted to him as men submit to nature, unconsciously. He was severe with himself, and for that reason lenient with others. He appeared to apologize for being kinder than his fellows. He did merciful things as stealthily as others committed crimes. Almost ashamed of tenderness, he said and did the noblest words and deeds with that charming confusion that awkwardness-that is the perfect grace of modesty. As a noble man, wishing to pay a small debt to a poor neighbor, reluctantly offers a hundred-dollar bill and asks for change, fearing that he may be suspected either of making a display of wealth or a pretense of payment, so Lincoln hesitated to show his wealth of goodness, even to the best he knew.

A great man stooping, not wishing to make his fellows feel that they were small or mean.

He knew others, because perfectly acquainted with himself. He cared nothing for place, but everything for principle; nothing for money, but everything for independence. Where no principle was involved, easily swayed-willing to go slowly, if in the right direction-sometimes willing to stop, but he would not go back, and he would not go wrong. He was willing to wait. He knew that the event

was not waiting, and that fate was not the fool of chance. He knew that slavery had defenders, but no defense, and that they who attack the right must wound themselves. He was neither tyrant nor slave. He neither knelt nor scorned. With him, men were neither great nor small,—they were right or wrong. Through manners, clothes, titles, rags and race he saw the real-that which is. Beyond accident, policy, compromise and war he saw the end. He was patient as Destiny, whose undecipherable hieroglyphs were so deeply graven on his sad and tragic face.

This

Nothing discloses real character like the use of power. It is easy for the weak to be gentle. Most people can bear adversity. But if you wish to know what a man really is, give him power. is the supreme test. It is the glory of Lincoln that, having almost absolute power, he never abused it, except upon the side of mercy.

Wealth could not purchase, power could not awe this divine, this loving man. He knew no fear except the fear of doing wrong. Hating slavery, pitying the master-seeking to conquer, not persons, but prejudices-he was the embodiment of the selfdenial, the courage, the hope, and the nobility of a nation. He spoke, not to inflame, not to upbraid, but to convince. He raised his hands, not to strike, but in benediction. He longed to pardon.

He loved to see the pearls of joy on the cheeks of a wife whose husband he had rescued from death.

Lincoln was the grandest figure of the fiercest civil war. He is the gentlest memory of our world.

ROBERT G. INGERSOLL.

XVII.

A. H. MARKLAND.

NOT long after the November election of 1860,

an association was formed in Washington City for the purpose of gathering information as to the real condition of political affairs in the South with reference to threatened secession, and to organize for such remedies as might seem necessary. This association was composed of gentlemen mainly from the Southern States, who were for the maintenance of the Union at whatever cost. Some were the Some were the personal friends of Abraham Lincoln, others had opposed his election. In the membership were men who had held prominent positions in the public service, and who were skilled in political diplomacy. This association held its meetings for consultation daily and nightly during the winter months of 1860 and 1861, and though the meetings were not absolutely secret they were not openly public. I was one of the young members of the association. It is not material to state what steps were taken or what methods were adopted to accomplish the work in view. It is suf