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His practical wisdom made him the wonder of all landa With such certainty did Mr. Lincoln follow causes to their ultimate effects, that his foresight of contingencies seemed alnost prophetic. While we in turn were calling him weak and stubborn and blind, Europe was amazed at his statesmanship, and awed into silence by the grandeur of his plans. Measured by what he did, Mr. Lincoln is a statesman without a peer. He stands alone in the world. He came to the government by a minority vote. Without an army, without a navy, without money, without munitions, he stepped into the midst of the most stupendous, most wide-spread, most thoroughly equipped and appointed, most deeply planned and infamous rebellion of all history. He stamped upon the earth, and two millions of armed men leaped forward. He spoke to the sea, and the mightiest navy the world ever saw crowned every wave. He breathed into the air, and money and munitions rained upon the people.
Taken all and in all, he rises head and shoulders above every other man of six thousand years. I would not pluck one laurel from the statues of the noble dead; I would rather place in their midst another statue that shall adorn and honor their glorified company. We are, indeed, too near Mr. Lincoln to award him the glory he deserves. We remember too well his long, lank form, his awkward movements, to realize that this man, standing among us like a father, yet looms above us like a monarch. I turn to the past; I see behind me a noble company. There is Napoleon, the man of destiny. Armies move at his bid as if they were the muscles of his body; kings rise and fall at his nod; but he lived for himself. His entire life was a failure. He did not accomplish one of his great purposes. I see a Wellington; great as a military chieftain, competent to command armies against a foreign and hereditary foe. I see Marlborough; but on every stone of his monument and in every page of his history I see the frauds by which he enriched himself from the plunder of his country. There is Cromwell-a fine old man, England's noblest son; but his arena was small, the work he undertook limited, the work he accomplished ephemeral. The revolution from the hereditary kingdom of the Swarts to the hereditary dictatorship of the truth welis was
not so great as the change from executing the Fugitive Slavo Law in Boston to the Constitutional Emancipation of the slave in Maryland. Yet upon his death the Government reverted to the Stuarts. But upon the death of Abraham Lincoln, freedom rears a monument, and for new conquests marches boldly into the future. I do see a Cæsar yonder; but his power is the purchase of fraud and crime, and falls about his grave like withered weeds. And away down yonder in the dark vortex of history, looking out upon the centuries, is old Pericles. But the thirty thousand citizens of Athens are lost in some inland town of America, with her thirty millions of citizens. There are many noble heroes who illumine the darkness behind us with the radiance of some single virtue; but among them all I see no Lincoln. He is radiant with all the great virtues, and his memory shall shed a glory upon this age that shall fill the eyes of men as they look into history. An administrator, he saved the nation in the perils of unparalleled civil war. A statesman, he justified his measures by their success. A philanthropist, he give liberty to one race and salvation to another. A moral. ist, he bowed from the summit of human power to the foot of the cross, and became a Christian. A mediator, he exercised mercy under the most absolute abeyance to law. A leader, he was no partisan. A commander, he was untainted with blood. A ruler in desperate times, he was unsullied with crime. A man, he has left no word of passion, no thought of malice, no trick of craft, no act of jealousy, no purpose of selfish ambition. Thus perfected, without a model and without a peer, he was dropped into these troubled years to adorn and embellish all that is good and all that is great in our humanity, and to present to all coming time the representative of the divine idea of Free Govern ment.
It is not too much to say that away down in the future, when the Republic has fallen from its niche in the wall of time; when the great war itself shall have faded out in the distance like a mist on the horizon ; when the Anglo-Saxon language shall be handed only by the tongue of the stranger; then the generations looking this way shall see the great President as the supreme figure in this vortex of history.
I'm up-go away from the door!
If you pound there like that any more. How tired I do feel !- Where's that cushion?
I don't want to move from this chair;
I really can't do my own hair.
I knew I'd feel tired! but it's hard
If you have a place left on your card. I was silly to wear that green satin.
It's a shame that I've spotted it soAll down the front breadth-it's just ruined
No trimming will hide that, I know. That's me! Have a costume imported,
And spoil it the very first night! I might make an overskirt of it,
That shade looks so lovely with white.
I hope that I didn't catch cold
If Ma knew that, wouldn't she scold!
Dear! where is Marie ?-how it rains! I don't care; he's real nice and handsome,
And his talk sounds as if he'd some brains I do wonder what is the reason,
That good men are all like Joe Price, So poky, and stiff, and conceited,
And fast ones are always so nice. Just see how Joe acted last evening!
He didn't come near me at all, Because I danced twice with Will Stacy
That night at the charity ball. I didn't care two pins to do it;
But Joe said I musn't,--and soI just did--he isn't my master,
Nor shan't be, I'd like him to know. I don't think he looked at me even,
Though just to please him I wore greon,
And I'd saved him three elegant dances,
I wouldn't have acted so mean.
Dear me! just as if I would care!
They'd make a congenial pair!
I think I shall stop going out;
I don't care the least bit about.
But, my, he's just like all the men!
Just see if I do it again ;
I'll pay him back; won't I be cool!
I'll-yes I will-go back to school.
Let's see-I declare! why, it's Joe!
Good gracious! why don't the girl go!
Quick, Marie, and do up my hair!-
How slow you arel-I'll pin it-there!
ZARA'S EAR-RINGS. 'My ear-rings! my ear-rings! they've dropped into the well, And what to say to Muça, I cannot, cannot tell." 'Twas thus, Granada's fountain by, spoke Albuharez' daughter. “The well is deep; far down they lie, beneath the cold blue
water. To me did Muça give them, when he spake his sad farewell; And what to say when he comes back, alas! I cannot tell. “My ear-rings! my ear-rings! they were pearls in silver set, That when my Moor was far away, I ne'er should him forget; That I ne'er to other tongue should list, nor smile on other's
tale, But remember he my lips had kissed, pure as those ear-rings
pale. When he comes back, and hears that I have dropped them
in the well, Oh! what will Muça think of me, I cannot, cannot tell !
"My ear-rings! my ear-rings! he'll say they should have
been Not of pearl and of silver, but of gold and glittering sheen, Of jasper and of onyx, and of diamond shining clear, Changing to the changing light, with radiance insincere; That changeful mind unchanging gems are not befitting well: Thus will he think :-and what to say, alas ! I cannot tell ! " He'll think, when I to market went, I loitered by the way; He'll think a willing car I lent to all the lads might say ; He'll think some other lover's hand, among my tresses
nooseci, From the ears where he had placed them my rings of pearl
unloosed. He'll think, when I was sporting so beside this marble well, My pearls fell in :-and what to say, alas! I cannot tell.
I am a woman, and we are all the same; He'll say I loved when he was here to whisper of his flame; But when he went to Tunis, my virgin troth had broken, And thought no more of Muça, and cared not for his token. My ear-rings! my ear-rings! Oh! luckless, luckless well! For what to say to Muça, alas ! I cannot tell ! “I'll tell the truth to Muça, and I hope he will believe That I thought of him at morning, and thought of him at eve; That musing on my lover, when down the sun was gone, His ear-rings in my hand I held, by the fountain all alone; And that my mind was o'er the sea, when from my hand
they fell, And that deep his love lies in my heart, as they lie in the
Let every sound be dead