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XIII.

HENRY WARD BEECHER.

Y acquaintance with Lincoln could hardly be called an acquaintance. I was rather an observer. I followed him as I did every public character during the antislavery conflict. The first thing that really awakened my interest in him was his speeches parallel with Douglas in Illinois, and indeed it was that manifestation of ability that secured his nomination to the Presidency. It was a matter of great importance that the new Presidential election should have another candidate than Fremont, and Lincoln's speech at the Cooper Union, after his controversy with Douglas, settled it.

Seward expected the nomination, but overhopeful nature would, I think, have gone far to damage the whole country if he had been President, and the nomination of Lincoln was, to begin with, the revelation of the hand of God.

He was, in the most significant way, a man that embodied all the best qualities of unspoiled, middleclass men. He had the homely common sense; he had honesty with sagacity; and he had sympathetic

nature that prepared him to accept any stormy times. The colored people were the helpless wards; the Southern people, our fellow-citizens.

The weakness of human nature is such that when a man is born he is helpless; and he can never stand up against the public sentiment of the age in which he lives. Lincoln was able to deal with all classes of men, from his very nature. When he first went to Washington, the general opinion was that he was an honest man but lacked in sagacity; but a friend told me he was the best judge of men in the country. Thus far in a general way.

I was editor of the Independent in 1861-2, and of course my duty compelled me to keep the run of things, and know what was going on behind and outside.

The first visit I ever made to Washington was before the war. The organization of the church was controlled by the South, and I walked the streets and was regarded by the people there as a sort of dangerous animal. They stood and looked at me as they would a bull-dog or bear. I did not go to Washington again until 1862.

In 1862, the great delay, the want of any success, the masterly inactivity of our leading generals, roused my indignation, and I wrote a series of editorials addressed to the President (three or four), and as near as I can recollect they were in the nature of a mow

ing machine-they cut at every revolution-and I was told one day that the President had received them and read them through with very serious countenance, and that his only criticism was: "Is thy servant a dog?" They bore down on him very

hard.

I went to England in 1863, not directly or indirectly by request of Mr. Lincoln or of Mr. Seward, and was opposed to speaking there until I was dragged into it by things over there.

On my return from England I fell in with Stanton, and I consider him to be head and shoulders above all others in that conflict.

There was some talk, early in 1864, of a sort of compromise with the South. Blair had told the President that he was satisfied if he could be put in communication with some of the leading men of the South in some way or other, that some benefit would accrue. Lincoln had sent a delegation to meet Alexander Stephens, and that was all the North knew. We were all very much excited over that. The war lasted so long, and I was afraid Lincoln would be so anxious for peace, and I was afraid he would accept something that would be of advantage to the South, so I went to Washington and called upon him. We were alone in his receiving-room. His hair was "every way for Sunday." It looked as though it was an abandoned stubble

field. He had on slippers, and his vest was what was called "going free." He looked wearied, and when he sat down in a chair, looked as though every limb wanted to drop off his body. And I said to him, "Mr. Lincoln, I come to you to know whether the public interest will permit you to explain to me what this Southern commission means? I am in a position as editor, not wont to step in the dark." Well, he listened very patiently, and looked up to the ceiling for a few moments, and said: "Well, I am almost of a mind to show you all the documents."

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Well, Mr. Lincoln, I should like to see them if it is proper." He went to his little secretary, and came out and handed me a little card as long as my finger and an inch wide, and on that was written

"You will pass the bearer through the lines" (or something to that effect).

"A. LINCOLN."

There," he said, "is all there is of it. Now Blair thinks something can be done, but I don't, but I have no objection to have him try his hand. He has no authority whatever but to go and see what he can do."

Well," said I, "you have lifted a great burden mind."

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Well, that being all safely over, we talked a little