New-York tribune., 1910-12-08
Lincoln. Maker of History
Ambassador Reds Address Before the University of Brmng
ham, England.
Delivered December z, 1901
ham, England.

H~-~ -ASN Ak1sk4s his l0tSiiI~AAs "a
individual character not very safe Thus,
in the haste, he appointed many incom-
petent officers in the army and else
where, and often tolerated inefdciency
after others had discovered It.
But he was not governed by personal
likes and disiikes. and least Of all by
any remembrance of, grievances. Dur
ing his life at the bar no other lawyer
had ever affronted and wounded him so
deeply as Edwin II. Stanton: and the
professional injustice was further en-
hittered by unconceaIed contempt for his
backwoods appearance. Yet IN a crit-
cal moment and on the belief that Mr.
, Stanton could do the work in which his
/ first apDointee had not been successful.
/ he did not hesitate 10 make this con-
temptuous and as he thought, arrogant
| lawyer his Secretary of War. A highly
trained general whom he had appointed
and promoted tortured him by unex-
pected delays III the field. and by send
! ing him political letters, kept him wait
| ing long at night in the generals ante
room. even went TO bed without seeing
/ him at all He kept this man in high
command. and persisted in giving him
another trial. in spite of halting obedi-
/ ence and frequent failure. long after the
country and the Cabinet called for
change. The abIest and most useful
member Of his Cabinet was used, per
! haps unconsciously. as a rallying point
/ for the disaffection which sought 10 pre-
vent his denomination. and this member
/ OF his official family finally resigned on
/ a poor question Of patronage. He seized
the opportunity a few months later. TO
appoint that man Chief Justice OF the
I United States
/ He was not "perpetually telling hu-
morous and sometimes risque stories in
the White House; he had no such con-
/ ception Of the duties Of & statesman in
exalted position and In q time Of e1-
treIne peril. On the contrary, he proba-
bly, told fewer stories during his whole
stay in the White House than IN any
previous year Of his adult life; and for
every one he did tell a hundred poorer
and coarser ones We're fathered on him.
/ Nor did his stories call for the unctuous
and sllperfiuous excuse that they af-
forded him a needed relief from the sad
ness Of the time. No doubt he was SAD
in the White House. but he had been
sad all his life. The Wit and nunor
with which his stories overfiowed were
an essential part Of his strange frontier
nature. as essential as his melancholy,
! his ready syInpatllies. or his ambition
He had no dissipations. and no other
anluseneuts: instead of them he told
stories from boEhood 70 adniring COM
! rades: he told them uncommonly well,
and II public they always illustrated his
argument and helped him carry his
point. Nothing. for instance. could have
made palmer his view about the unfit
ness of the Free Sellers TO assume the
place OF a great national party and,
/ with their one idea, undertake the COM
plex duties of carrying on the govern
Inent OF the country, than his story at
/ Worcester. Mass. as early as 1S4S, about
the Yankee pedIer who had but one pair
OF trousers in his stock and commended
II to every customer as large enough 70
fit any man-and small enough TO tit any
: boy"
He was always the life Of every coun-
Jrv tavern where he stayed. and his
stories on the circuit We're as eagerly
/ awaited bv the bench and bar as the
regular sessions OF the court. Yet at
the most critical periods Of his life this
! incessant story teller was the victim Of
such meIanchoIia that his friends feared
for his reason; always when not in ami
] mated conversation. he was the most
melancholy looking Of men. In the
White House and under the anxieties Of
the Civil War he was naturally still
/ more gloomy. To regard this highest
and saddest statesman of the century as
q mere professional wearer of the cap
and bells-to take this sacred name as
/ convenient decoration for some popular
hurnorist and jokesnith by trade, and
J to eulogize such g one as the Abraham
! Lincoln Of American Iiterature'-that is
the last indignity from the sentimental
school which he distrusted in life and
which thus belittles his blood earned
laurels.
/ He was not in the early days and, in
! fact. he never became a great lawyer
: hardly even q thorough one. He did be
/ come slovly-he did e7ervthing slowly
an unsurpassed jury lawyer, with what
some Of his professional rivals consid-
cred the drawback Of being also an hon
! est one He could not succeed unless he
/ thoroughly believed in MS csse-and he
rarely tried.
! He was an intensely religious man.
ana knew the Bible better than any
other book. his own conduct was gov
erned by an exalted ethical code-as
! exalted as that Of Marcus Aurelius-but
/ ne was never member Of any church.
and if the opinions Of two Of his part
ners. Of his wife and Of some other init
mates can be accepted he could not be
/ accurately described as 2 convinced
/ Christian.
! He vas the great Emancipator, but in
politics he was never an Abolitionist-
/ in fact, he distrusted and opposed them
and their party. He did not even, At
the beginning Of his public career, par
/ ticularly concern himself with slavery,
although he always thought i'll of II.
/ He devoted himself 10 local issues; and
! he rose first TO the favor of his con
| stituents BIZ arguing the navigability OF
/ the Sangamon River and by leading the
successful effort for the removal of the