THE SYMPATHY OF LINCOLN FOR THE UNFORTUNATE

OME men work only with their hands; some with their heads; others with their hearts. A great man works with them all—and

of such was Lincoln. He knew that any man who tries to build

his life upon any one of these qualities, at the expense of the other, is destined to failure. Lincoln began life with his hands; his first discovery was his heart; and he learned to control them both with his head. Go back to those days in 1864, and sit with him in his cabinet. The ministers are impatient and stubborn, but he conquers them not with a scourge of discipline but with pointed wit. An officer having some trouble with Sherman, hurries to Lincoln and reports excitedly: "Mr. President, I have a cause of grievance. This morning I went to see Colonel Sherman and he threatened to shoot me!"

"Threatened to shoot you?" exclaims Lincoln in surprise. “ "Well, if I were you I would not trust him for I believe he would do it."

Go with Lincoln to the battlefields. Stand beside him as he aims the guns to assure himself of their efficiency, and with his early instinct scores a dozen hits in fourteen shots. Sit with him as he eats at their mess tables and hear him exclaim, "How willingly would I exchange places today with the soldier who sleeps on the ground in the Army of the Potomac." He knew neither pride of rank nor the glory of war; he touched his hat to the General, but bared his head to the boys in the ranks. The mother's prayer, the father's plea, the babies' cry, the story of an empty sleeve or a crutch, he never failed to hear. Every soldier who carried a musket was his son-all were his children.

"There are already too many weeping widows," he protested when asked to sign execution papers against deserters. "For God's sake, do not ask me to add to the number, for I won't do it!"

A girl is pleading for her brother's life; he has been condemned to die. He is speaking to her: "My poor girl, you have come here with no Governor or Senator or member of Congress to plead your cause; you seem honest and truthful . . . If he has not a friend, I will be his friend!"

A poor widow has lost five sons in battle; he is writing to her: "I pray our Heavenly Father to assuage the anguish of your bereavement and leave only the memory of the loved and lost, and the solemn pride that must be yours to have laid so costly a sacrifice upon the altar of freedom."

Firm and determined-it was the balance of justice.

THE WORTH OF A MAN IN LINCOLN'S JUDGMENT

HERE is a place in the world for every man-and a man for every place. The secret is in securing the right man for the right place. Lincoln was an experimenter with men. He knew that throughout the annals of mankind, whenever the people are in danger, somewhere, sometime, a man always rises among them to lead their cause.

The Confederacy found such a man to lead their army at the beginning—a man of courage, character, and nobility, a master leader of men. The Union found many men, brave, loyal, conscientious-but it had not yet found the right man for the right place at the right moment. Down in the Mississippi valley, Lincoln's eyes fell upon a little, silent man who was fighting his way through almost insurmountable obstacles; a volunteer, who, without political influence, had offered his services to his country and through his courage was leading his men to victory.

It was early in March, in 1864, that this little, silent man came quietly to Washington. As he passed through the streets, leading his young son by the hand, he wore an old blue uniform; there was a well-worn army hat on his head, and a cigar in his mouth.

Lincoln rose to meet

A few hours later he entered the White House. him. His kind, sympathetic face looked down upon the stranger.

"This is Ulysses S. Grant," he exclaimed, and the two men clasped hands. It was a moment that was molding the future of the western world. Here was a man whose life at thirty-nine had been a failure, and, although a graduate of West Point, had never been able to find his right place in the world; who, before the war, was a store clerk at fifty dollars a month.

As Lincoln stood before him, to bestow upon him the highest military honor, which none but Washington among American soldiers had ever borne on the battlefield, ministers of the cabinet gathered about him. "As the country trusts you," said Lincoln, profoundly, “so under God will it sustain you."

The silent, little man bowed as he took the commission which gave him the destiny of an army. "I feel the full weight of the responsibilities devolving upon me," he said, "and I know that if they are met it will be due to those armies, and above all to the favor of that Providence which loves both nations and men." Declining a public dinner as the guest of the President, he pulled his worn army hat down over his eyes, and left the White House to marshal about him the legions that were now to lead a republic to glorious triumph. The right man was now in the right place.