points from Washington. The same, only the lines lengthened a
little, if you press closer to the Blue Ridge part of the way. The
gaps through the Blue Ridge I understand to be about the following
distances from Harper's Ferry, to wit: Vestal's, five miles;
Gregory's, thirteen; Snicker's, eighteen; Ashby's, twenty-eight;
Manassas, thirty-eight; Chester, forty-five; and Thornton's,
fifty-three. I should think it preferable to take the route nearest
the enemy, disabling him to make an important move without your
knowledge, and compelling him to keep his forces together for dread
of you. The gaps would enable you to attack if you should wish. For
a great part of the way you would be practically between the enemy
and both Washington and Richmond, enabling us to spare you the
greatest number of troops from here. When, at length, running to
Richmond ahead of him enables him to move this way, if he does so,
turn and attack him in the rear. But I think he should be engaged
long before such point is reached. It is all easy if our troops
march as well as the enemy, and it is unmanly to say they cannot do
it. This letter is in no sense an order.

Yours truly, A. LINCOLN.
MAJOR-GENERAL MCCLELLAN.

Throughout the entire war President Lincoln was always keenly solicitous
for the welfare of the Union soldiers. He knew that upon them everything
depended; and he felt bound to them not only by official relations, but
by the tenderer ties of human interest and love. In all his
proclamations and public utterances he gave the fullest credit to the
brave men in the field, and claimed for them the country's thanks and
gratitude. His sympathy for the soldiers was as tender as that of a
woman, and his tears were ever ready to start at the mention of their
hardships, their bravery, their sufferings and losses. Nothing that he
could do was left undone to minister to their comfort in field or camp
or hospital. His most exacting cares were never permitted to divert his
thoughts from them, and his anxious and tender sympathy included all
whom they held dear. Said Mr. Riddle, in a speech in Congress in 1863:
"Let not the distant mother, who has given up a loved one to fearful
death, think that the President does not sympathize with her sorrow, and
would not have been glad--oh, how glad--to so shape events as to spare
the sacrifices. And let not fathers and