Evening star., 1940-02-11
Photo by Horydczdk.

Photo by Horydczdk.
tions of the struggle he had been ma
ligned by friends and foe alike. He made
his share of mistakes. He had played
politics. not always the cleanest sort Of
politics on the surface. He had been
trapped into situations that, In the set
ting of time, were highly compromis-
ing. He was an easy personality to
caricature and ridicule
What Was Lost!
In what, then, lay the mans great
ness? What was the loss that caused
worldwide mounting when the assassin's
bullet put an end to his carser? John
Wilkes Booth could not understand It.
He had THOUGHT. Is. he recorded IN his
pathetic diary, that surely he would be q
hero in the South where for four years
the name OF the President of the United
States had been a name to curse with.
He found instead that even below the
Potomac his deed was almost universally
execrated. When Sherman received the
news he was negotiating for the sur
render of Johnsons army. He handed
the telegram to the Confederate general,
who was too overcome with emotion to
speak.
What had happened in the South?
What had happened in the North where
the Copperhead journals denounced the
assassination as one Of the great crimes
of history? In few months, it seemed
Lincoln had become q folk hero the
world over-in the drawing rooms Of
Victorian England, in the salons Of
Paris. the tepees of the Sioux and the
igloos Of the Eskimo. A Russian ex-
plorer found his name revered among
the Chuchchee reindeer hunters of
Northern Siberia. The mans death
seems to have swept away all at once
the garments of ordinariness which had
hid his greatness. .'..
It could hardly be considered great
ness of accomplishment. Lincoln had
been at times even blunderer., There
had been outstanding acts, such as the
Gettysburg address There had also
been bursts of petulance, moments of
weakness. The greatness which the
world instinctively recognized at the end
and has continued to recognize ever
since was the whole pattern Of the mans
life. He had suffered the sorrows of
millions, North and South. He epito-
mized the emerging America, the rising
sun of the world. He was Whitmans
vision in flesh and soul. Better than
Emerson, or Sumner. or Grant. he
epitomiZed the North. Better than
Davis, or jackson, or even Lee, he epi-s
tomized the South. Better than all these
men and scores of other great men put
together, he epitomized America. He
was the unknown soldier" Of the eternal
spiritual battle of man, selected by the
hand of fate to be symbol for all time
of all the countless millions-black men
and white men, rich men and poor men,
Chinese and Blackfeet, aristocrats and
street sweepers-who had fought and
suffered and triumphed and fallen. He
was the symbol of greatness in ordinari-
ness which was the backbone Of the
democracy then emerging in the world
to shine so brightly for three quarters Of
century.
An Artistic Presentation.
It Is the merit of Carl Sandburg's work
that once having read the volumes one
is left with an overwhelming sense of
the greatness Of Lincoln. The reader
cannot state it briefly. Neither could
the author. It is beyond words. He
creates an intuitive sense of awe, just as
one might feel In the middle of Arling-
ton Cemetery on starht autumn night.
That in itself is an accomplishment of
supreme artistry. =
The War Years rises to heights of
'lyricism. There are long interludes Of
prosaic monotony. It is not . swift
moving narrative which one can read at
sitting, with the fascination Of reading
work Of fiction. But this may well
have been intended, . part Of Mr.. Sand
burgs artistry. Lincoln himself was
like that -ordinarineU lit by flashes Of
supernatural light. The ordinariness
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