es. 'Trees,' he said, 'are as deceptive in their
likeness to one another as are certain classes of men, amongst whom none
but a physiognomist's eye can detect dissimilar moral features until
events have developed them. Do you know it would be a good thing if in
all the schools proposed and carried out by the improvement of modern
thinkers, we could have _a school of events_?' 'A school of events?'
repeated the lady addressed. 'Yes,' he continued, 'since it is only by
that active development that character and ability can be tested.
Understand me, I now mean men, not trees; _they_ can be tried, and an
analysis of their strength obtained less expensive to life and human
interests than man's. What I say now is a mere whim, you know; but when
I speak of a school of events, I mean one in which, before entering real
life, students might pass through the mimic vicissitudes and situations
that are necessary to bring out their powers and mark the calibre to
which they are assigned. Thus, one could select from the graduates an
invincible soldier, equal to any position, with no such word as fail; a
martyr to right, ready to give up life in the cause; a politician too
cunning to be outwitted; and so on. These things have all to be tried,
and their sometime failure creates confusion as well as disappointment.
There is no more dangerous or expensive analysis than that which
consists of _trying a man_.'"

Among Lincoln's callers one Sunday evening, was the distinguished
scientist Louis Agassiz. The two men were somewhat alike in their
simple, shy, and unpretending nature, and at first felt their way with
each other like two bashful schoolboys. Lincoln began conversation by
saying to Agassiz, "I never knew how to pronounce your name properly;
won't you give me a little lesson at that, please?" Then he asked if the
name were of French or Swiss derivation, to which the Professor replied
that it was partly of each. That led to a discussion of different
languages, the President speaking several words in different languages
which had the same root as similar words in our own tongue; then he
illustrated that by one or two anecdotes. But he soon returned to his
gentle cross-examination of Agassiz, and found out how the Professor
studied, how he composed, and how he delivered his lectures; how he
found different tastes in his audiences in different portions of the
country. When afterwards asked why he put such questions to his learned
visitor,