qualities which enabled him to
do his great work are very clear now to all men. His courage and his
wisdom, his keen perception and his almost prophetic foresight, enabled
him to deal with all the problems of that distracted time as they
arose around him. But he had some qualities, apart from those of the
intellect, which were of equal importance to his people and to the work
he had to do. His character, at once strong and gentle, gave confidence
to every one, and dignity to his cause. He had an infinite patience,
and a humor that enabled him to turn aside many difficulties which could
have been met in no other way. But most important of all was the fact
that he personified a great sentiment, which ennobled and uplifted his
people, and made them capable of the patriotism which fought the war
and saved the Union. He carried his people with him, because he knew
instinctively, how they felt and what they wanted. He embodied, in
his own person, all their highest ideals, and he never erred in his
judgment.

He is not only a great and commanding figure among the great statesmen
and leaders of history, but he personifies, also, all the sadness and
the pathos of the war, as well as its triumphs and its glories. No words
that any one can use about Lincoln can, however, do him such justice as
his own, and I will close this volume with two of Lincoln's speeches,
which show what the war and all the great deeds of that time meant to
him, and through which shines, the great soul of the man himself. On
November 19, 1863, he spoke as follows at the dedication of the National
cemetery on the battle-field of Gettysburg:

Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this
continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the
proposition that all men are created equal.

Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or
any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on
a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of
that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives
that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we
should do this.

But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate--we cannot consecrate--we
cannot hallow--this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who
struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or
detract. The world will little note or long remember what we say here