sideration. She could not think as he did on the subject of slavery
and the kindred one of State Rights. His manners were not like hers. He
was thirty-one years old that summer. It was rather late in life to
undertake any great change in his manners. They grew naturally out of
one's history and character. He could be kind and gentle in his way. But,
mainly, his manners would have to be like the rugged limbs of the oak.
The grace and elegance of the water-willow and the white birch were not
for him. It saddened him to conclude that he would have to be for a long
time just what he was--crude, awkward, unlearned in the graces and
amenities of cultivated people. He rightly judged that his crudeness
would be a constant source of irritation to the proud Mary. As their
acquaintance progressed the truth of his conviction grew more apparent.
This, however, did not so much concern him as her lack of sympathy with
some of his deepest motives. He decided that, after all, he did not love
her and that to marry her would be committing a great Wrong.

Some of the unhappiest days of his life followed. His conscience gave him
no rest. He knew not what to do. He told a friend that if his misery were
equally distributed to the whole human race each would have a troublesome
burden. He was wont to take long walks into the country with "Mr. Nimble"
those days often carrying the boy on his shoulders. It is likely that the
little lad was a great comfort to him. He wrote a letter to Miss Todd in
which he reviewed the history of his thinking on the subject of their
marriage and frankly but tenderly stated his conviction that it would
imperil her happiness to marry him. Before sending it he submitted the
letter to his friend Speed.

The latter read it over and looked very grave.

"What do you think of it?" Lincoln asked.

"I would never send a letter like that to a lady," Speed answered. "If
you feel as you say go and tell her so, but don't put it in a letter."

Lincoln went to see her that evening and returned to his friend in a more
cheerful mood.

"Did you tell her?" Speed asked.

"Yes, I told her."

"What happened?"

"She burst out crying and I threw my arms around her and kissed her and
that settled it. We are going to be married."

What an illustration of the humanity and chivalry of Honest Abe was in
the proceeding!

"I'm sure you'll get along all right together," said Speed. "Your spirit
is jealous of any one likely to get in