week of July saw Vicksburg and Port Huron surrendered, the Mississippi open and the Confederacy cleft in twain, so that in the west the decisive blow fell almost simultaneously with that in the east.

The fighting between Lee's and Meade's advance forces began on the first day of July and continued until darkness fell. The advantage was all with the south. All day July 2, over a dusty field and under a blazing sun, the battle raged, and still the result was in doubt. At night a council of corps and division commanders was held, and the decision was unanimous to stay and fight out the battle upon the ground. Even the ordinary precautions for covering a possible retreat were not taken.

At dawn of the third day the fighting recommenced, and by noon the tide was obviously turned in favor of the north. Lee determined upon one supreme effort. At three o'clock in the afternoon eighteen thousand fresh troops, the choice of his army and commanded by General Pickett, one of its best officers, were hurled in a magnificent and desperate charge upon the Federal center. Lee had underestimated what he was assailing and his splendid troops were cast back, bleeding, shattered, crushed. Had it been otherwise, the Confederacy might to-day be a nation. As it was, from the moment that charge failed the Rebellion was doomed.

During the greater part of the three days' fighting, the forces were nearly equal and the losses were about the same. The Army of the Potomac lost 23,186 and the Army of Virginia 22,728 men, yet the result was an unequivocal Union victory. Fresh troops were hurrying on to Meade. It seems that he might have followed up his advantage and made his victory complete. His action in not doing so has been severely criticized and warmly defended. As it was, Lee was permitted to return to Virginia with slight molestation.

The winning of the battle of Gettysburg was as vitally necessary to the government for its influence in the rear as for its effect in front. Emissaries of the south and the lowest demagogues of the north were at work in New York and other large cities stirring up opposition to the draft. The then governor of New York state was bitterly opposed to the draft, if not openly in favor of forcible resistance. The militia had been largely withdrawn from New York City to meet the emergency of Lee's invasion, and. there had been an unaccountable and suspicious delay in returning them to their homes.

Saturday, the eleventh of June, had been appointed for the beginning of the draft in New York City. With astounding carelessness, no provision had been made for maintaining it, except a few squads of the invalid corps. The first day of the draft passed quietly enough. Not even the police were notified, and though a week had passed since the battle of Gettysburg, the city militia had not been returned. Sunday was marked by no disturbance, but on Monday morning the draft offices were closed

by a desperate mob composed of the dregs of the foreign population, led by demagogues and by ruffians, whose real object was plunder. Twentyfour serious fires occurred in the first twenty-four hours. At first the rioters only killed colored people and policemen, but as they became maddened by blood no man of respectable appearance was secure of his life.

For several days the city was in the possession of this murderous rabble. The police force did nobly; wherever a single officer or a small squad fell into the hands of the mob they were butchered like swine; but if the odds were no worse than ten to one against them, they were invariably victorious. They were assisted by such small remnant of the militia as were in the city, by veterans of disbanded regiments, by soldiers and marines from the forts and vessels in the harbor, and by hundreds of citizens who armed and were sworn in as special officers.

At last regiments arrived from various points and the riot was quelled, but not until probably fifteen hundred lives and an immense amount of property had been sacrificed. Of course every effort was made to prove Mr. Lincoln responsible for those disorders, with how much justice the world knows.

Governor Seymour of New York had been very inert during the riots. Afterward he went so far as to urge Mr. Lincoln to have the draft act brought before the supreme court that its constitutionality might be tested. There are men who would try to compel St. Peter to admit them to heaven by bringing mandamus proceedings! Lincoln answered that he had no objection to the court passing upon the law, but, in the meantime, the draft must go on. He added: "We are contending with an enemy who, as I understand, drives every able-bodied man he can reach into his ranks, very much as a butcher drives bullocks into a slaughter pen. No time is wasted, no argument is used This produces an army which will soon turn upon our now victorious soldiers already in the field, if they should not be sustained by recruits, as they should be."

The south had, in fact, called out its last man, and was preparing to die fighting.

It is impossible to convey an idea of the terrible wear and tear of such a life as the President was leading. The burthen of his necessary and legitimate duties was more than any man could long endure. Add to this the hatred and abuse of enemies-for he had become the impersonation of principles and acts that excited the rage of millions in both hemispheres -the importunities of office-seekers, the impertinence of busybodies, and the assaults of schemers and fanatics of every degree-and it cannot be wondered that he was sometimes irritated and irascible. He worked like. a machine, taking for granted the services of those about him, neglecting his meals and giving himself but little sleep. The work and worry were slowly killing him. One day his face for a moment lighted up and he

told a humorous story. Then his expression lapsed into the gloom which. had become habitual, and he said: "I should die if I had not some such relief."

In spite of all he listened patiently every day to many persons in distress-wives, mothers and sisters, from both north and south-craving the gift of life or liberty for some one. Never when mercy could be given without a dangerous sacrifice of justice, did he refuse it. Never did a little child smile in his face without receiving an answering smile from the weary and heart-broken man, so loved and so hated.

The summer of 1863 belongs to history. The prospects of the Union cause were brighter as the weeks passed by, but no brightness came into the life of the great leader. He saw the fair prospect of the promised land of peace and unity; perhaps he felt that, like Moses, he should die before he entered it.

On the nineteenth of November the Gettysburg military cemetery was solemnly dedicated. The President was in attendance, and it was known that he would speak. Some expected an elaborate oratorical effort, but het said only a few words, simple, solemn and moving as the notes of a grand choral when the light in nave and aisle is dim with the declining day, and a great master throws his soul into the organ keys. I will quote only his closing sentences:

"The world will little note nor long remember what we say here; but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced; it is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining for us, that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain ; that this Nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that the government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth."

Thus, like an inspired prophet of old, he spoke, and as if he had been an inspired prophet the people listened to words that are immortal.

The time when the new and mighty chief is about to come into the few remaining pages of our history, is a fitting one to illustrate by a letter written by Lincoln to Grant, July 13, 1863, a prominent and admirable trait of Lincoln's character-the proud humility with which he did justice to himself by doing exact justice to others. The letter was written to congratulate Grant upon his success at Vicksburg, and is as follows: "My Dear General:

I do not remember that you and I have ever met personally. I write this now as a grateful acknowledgment for the almost inestimable service you have done the country. I write to say a word further. When you