respect was paid. He read the Bible, and from it, especially from the New Testament, he drank in with unquenchable thirst the new philosophy of the Scriptures. These words, and in this beautifully clothed form, lent new ideals to him, and here he found the essence of so much which he so freely referred to in later years. This new drift-this biblical literature-came into his life as a request of a dying mother. That he held her advice dear and that he profited by it, let us take his own words as the best of proof. For when he had reached the zenith of his career he paid motherhood the highest, most sublime and eloquent tribute to be found in our language, when he said, "All I am or ever hope to be I owe to my angel mother." The boy possessed, too, a copy of "Pilgrim's Progress," and from its splendid English he learned the smooth and soothful diction of the great John Bunyan; in these writings he learned to appreciate the truth of the supremacy of justice and the everywhere-applicable principles of moderation coupled with righteousness. Lincoln was indeed a remarkable combination of literary influences, and it must not, on an occasion like this, seem the glory of the North alone, that he lived. Lincoln was in truth a Southerner by both birth and training, but a Northerner by both sentiment and principle. His parents, both paternal and maternal, were of Southern extraction and he was shaped in his love for liberty by Southern writers, Southern orators, and Southern statesmen, who possessed the broad and patriotic national love. He read Washington, and there learned of the evolution of American freedom; he studied and admired Thomas Jefferson, whose unanswerable statement that "All men are born equal" became the very foundation stone of our national fabric, the very substance of the Lincoln campaign. This eminent advocate of universal privilege, was a Virginian. The master-mind of the Constitutional Convention, James Madison, was one of his ideals, and he too came from Virginia. Then there was Patrick Henry who preceded all others in his defiance of tyranny for liberty. He too came from the old Dominion, and when 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. The |