flag, amid unbounded euthusiasm, and salutes were fired from the batteries and fleet. Sergeant Hart was the same man who, when the staff of this flag had been shot off four years before, rescued and restored it to its place upon the fortifications. As soon as the flag was thrown to the breeze, Gen. Anderson delivered the following brief speech:

My Friends and Fellow Citizens, and Brother Soldiers: By the considerate appointment of the Hon. Secretary of War, I am here to fulfill the cherished wish of my heart through four long years of bloody war; to restore to its proper place this dear flag, which floated here during peace, before the first act of cruel rebellion. I thank God that I have lived to see this day, and to be here to perform this duty to my country. My heart is filled with gratitude to that God who has so signally blessed us; who has given us blessings beyond measure. May all the world proclaim, 'Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace; good will toward men.'"

Rev. Henry Ward Beecher then delivered a most thrilling and eloquent oration of about two hours duration. A synopsis of that oration can not be given here, but I must satisfy myself with one or two quotations:

"When God would prepare Moses for emancipation, He overthrew his first steps, and drove him for forty years to brood in the wilderness. When our flag came down, four years it lay brooding in darkness. It cried to the Lord, 'Wherefore am I deposed? Then arose before it a vision of sin. It had strengthened the strong and forgotten the weak. It proclaimed liberty, but trod upon slaves. In that seclusion it dedicated itself to liberty. Behold to-day it fulfills its vows! When it went down four million people had no flag. To-day it rises and [the same] four million people cry out, 'Behold our Flag!'

"From this pulpit of broken stone we speak forth our earnest greeting to all our land. We offer to the President of these

United States our solemn congratulations that God has sustained his life and health under the unparalleled burdens and sufferings of four bloody years, and permitted him to behold this auspi cious consummation of that national unity for which he has labored with such disinterested wisdom."

The kindly words spoken of President Lincoln were never known to him. Little did the orator think that in less than ten hours the hand of an assassin would put an end to that life, for the preservation of which he had been pouring out congratulations. Rumors of threatened assassination had from time to time reached the ear of the public, but so many dark days had been passed in safety that little or no danger was apprehended of such a calamity especially at this time, when the enemies of the nation were melting away before our armies as mist before the rising sun.

CHAPTER VIII.

Mr. Lincoln saw the storm coming long before it burst upon the nation, and from the time he became satisfied that he was about to be the choice of the people for President of the United States, he never doubted that he was chosen by the Almighty to do some special work. This feeling clung to him all through his presidential career. Running parallel with this was another feeling, that when his work was done he would pass away. On these two points he often conversed, and to his friends he sometimes expressed himself quite freely.

Among the earliest of his utterances on record with reference to these matters, is a series of conversations in the autumn of 1860, with the Hon. Newton Bateman, of Springfield, Superintendent of Public Instruction for Illinois, now President elect of Knox College. After Mr. Lincoln was nominated by the Chicago convention in May, 1860, he for a time received the public at his own residence. This, however, interfered so much with the privacy of the family that the Executive Chamber, a fine, large room in the State House, was tendered to him. In this he received all who had a mind to call on him, until after his election and departure for Washington. The room of Mr. Bateman was adjoining the Executive Chamber, and by a private door the occupants of these rooms could communicate when they desired to do so. This door was frequently open during the seven months the room was occupied by Mr. Lincoln. When he was tired he would often close the outer door against intrusion, and

call Mr. Bateman in for a quiet talk. On one of these occasions, after a long conversation about the inconsistency of ministers of the Gospel, and other professing Christians with whom they were both acquainted in their political action, he said: "Mr. Bateman, I am not a Christian-God knows I would be one, but I have carefully read the Bible, and I do not so understand this book," and he drew from his bosom a copy of the New Testament, and continued: "These men well know that I am for freedom in the territories, freedom everywhere, as far as the constitution and laws will permit, and that my opponents are for slavery. They know this, and yet, with this Book in their hands, in the light of which human bondage can not live a moment, they are going to vote against me. I do not understand it at all." He then paused, his features manifesting intense emotion; he arose and walked the room, in the effort to regain his composure. He at length stopped, his cheeks wet with tears, his voice trembling, and he said:

"I know there is a God, and that He hates injustice and slavery. I see the storm coming, and I know that His hand is in it. If he has a place and work for me-and I think He has-I believe I am ready. I know I am right, because I know that Liberty is right, for Christ teaches it, and Christ is God. I have told them that a house divided against itself cannot stand, and Christ and reason say the same; and they will find it so."

He then spoke of those who did not care whether slavery was voted up or voted down, and then said:

“God cares, and humanity cares, and I care; and with God's help I shall not fail. I may not see the end, but it will come, and I shall be vindicated; and these men will find that they have not read their Bibles aright."

Much of this was spoken as if he was talking to himself, and in a manner peculiarly sad, earnest and

solemn. Resuming the conversation after a short pause, he said:

"Does it not appear strange that men can ignore the moral aspects of this contest? A revelation could not make it plainer to me, that slavery or the government must be destroyed. The future would be something awful, as I look at it, but for this rock on which I stand"-(alluding to the Testament which he still held in his hand)—"especially with the knowledge of how these ministers are going to vote. It seems as if God had borne with this thing-slavery—until the very teachers of religion have come to defend it from the Bible, and to claim for it a divine character and sanction; and now the cup of iniquity is full, and the vials of wrath will be poured out.".

In the course of his conversation with Mr. Bateman he unreservedly expressed his conviction of the necessity of faith in the Christian's God, as an element of successful statesmanship, that it gave calmness to the mind which made a man firm and immovable amid the wildest excitements. After expressing his belief in an overruling Providence, and the fact of God in history, the subject of prayer was introduced. "He freely stated his belief in the duty, privilege and efficacy of prayer, and intimated, in unmistakable terms, that he had sought in that way the divine guidance and favor." When this interview was drawing to a close, Mr. Bateman said: "I have not supposed that you were accustomed to think so much upon this class of subjects. Certainly your friends generally are ignorant of the sentiments you have expressed to me." He replied quickly: "I know they are. I am obliged to appear different to them, but I think more on these subjects than upon all others, and I have done so for years, and I am willing you should know it."

Numerous instances might be cited of his conversations before his election and between that and the time of his inauguration, in which he expressed the