at would one not give for the old cloak that Paul
had from Troas, a piece of the marble by Phidias, the old threshold worn
by the feet of Socrates, an old missal illuminated by Bellini, an old
note-book in which Shakespeare wrote the first outline of Hamlet! And
the old, sweet, home words with which a mother soothes her babe, with
which a lover woos his bride, the old words of God, and home and native
land, are the words that are rich in association and in power to move
the heart. A bird lines its nest with feathers plucked from its own
breast, and the heart steeps the dear, simple speech of home life in
sacred associations. So Lincoln cut out all the long Latin words, and
substituted the short Saxon ones. Schooled in the two great master books
that are the precious life spirit of earth's greatest souls treasured
up, he developed his style.

Nor must we overlook the fact that the apparent narrowness of his
culture represents a real concentration that made for richness and
depth. If one must choose, take the upper Rhine that is a river deep and
pure and sweet, and strong for bearing the fleets of war and peace
because it is confined between banks and narrowed. But when the Rhine
comes down to the flats and approaches the sea and casts off all
restraints, and tries to include everything, it turns into a swamp, a
morass, losing its power for commerce, and becoming a source of disease
and death. Lincoln's culture was limited to the English, and to a
mastery of the Constitution--the principles of fundamental justice, to
one country--the Republic, to one topic--the Union, and to one
reform--Slavery. Beyond all doubt, this concentration of study during
the critical years of his career made up a much better preparation than
if he had gone to a college, studied half a dozen languages, and fifty
or sixty different subjects, and come out well smattered, but poorly
educated. It may be doubted whether Lincoln would have been much better
off had he been able to read Latin and Greek, and speak French and
German. Many people can say "It is a little yellow dog" in Greek, and
German, and French, and Italian, and English, but after all it is only a
little yellow dog. What educates is the idea, and not the half dozen
names of a thing without an idea.

The important thing about a cistern is water, and not many mouths to the
pump. Having spent many years learning to express one idea in five ways,
one might be glad to trade the five ways of