ines, exchanging for words
that sting and burn the language of prudence and caution. Is it a matter
of compromise with the South, so often proposed by men on both sides
sick of carnage? Lincoln is always ready to listen and turns away only
when he is invited to surrender principles essential to the safety of
the union. Is it high strategy of war, a question of the general best
fitted to win Gettysburg--Hooker, Sedgwick, or Meade? Lincoln goes in
person to the War Department in the dead of night to take counsel with
his Secretary and to make the fateful choice.

Is it a complaint from a citizen, deprived, as he believes, of his civil
liberties unjustly or in violation of the Constitution? Lincoln is ready
to hear it and anxious to afford relief, if warrant can be found for it.
Is a mother begging for the life of a son sentenced to be shot as a
deserter? Lincoln hears her petition, and grants it even against the
protests made by his generals in the name of military discipline. Do
politicians sow dissensions in the army and among civilians? Lincoln
grandly waves aside their petty personalities and invites them to think
of the greater cause. Is it a question of securing votes to ratify the
thirteenth amendment abolishing slavery? Lincoln thinks it not beneath
his dignity to traffic and huckster with politicians over the trifling
jobs asked in return by the members who hold out against him. Does a New
York newspaper call him an ignorant Western boor? Lincoln's reply is a
letter to a mother who has given her all--her sons on the field of
battle--and an address at Gettysburg, both of which will live as long as
the tongue in which they were written. These are tributes not only to
his mastery of the English language but also to his mastery of all those
sentiments of sweetness and strength which are the finest flowers of
culture.

Throughout the entire span of service, however, Lincoln was beset by
merciless critics. The fiery apostles of abolition accused him of
cowardice when he delayed the bold stroke at slavery. Anti-war Democrats
lashed out at every step he took. Even in his own party he found no
peace. Charles Sumner complained: "Our President is now dictator,
_imperator_--whichever you like; but how vain to have the power of a
god and not to use it godlike." Leaders among the Republicans sought to
put him aside in 1864 and place Chase in his chair. "I hope we may never
have a worse man," was Lincoln's quiet answer.

Wid