admitting
that there are points which, after all, we do not comprehend. They may
be trivial; but in making up testimony, it is the little things which
have weight. Trifles light as air are confirmation strong as proofs of
Holy Writ, and confutation no less strong. When, as a proof of Nat's
ardor in the pursuit of knowledge, we are told that he walked ten miles
after a hard day's work to hear Daniel Webster, and then _stood_ through
the oration in front of the platform, because he could see the speaker
better,--and when, turning to the next page, we are told that he was so
much interested that he "would have _sat_ entranced till morning, if the
gifted orator had continued to pour forth his eloquence,"--what are we
to believe? When we are bidden to "listen to the gifted orator, as the
flowing periods come burning from his soul on fire, riveting the
attention," etc., is it a river, or is it a fire, or is it a hammer and
anvil, that we have in our mind's eye, Horatio? When Nat "waxed warmer
and warmer, as he advanced, and spoke in a flow of eloquence and choice
selection of words that was unusual for one of his age," did he come out
dry-shod? We are told of his visit to the Boston bookstores,--that he
examined the books "outside before he stepped in. _He read the title of
each volume upon the back, and some he took up and examined_," but we
have no explanation of this extraordinary behavior. "It was thus with"
Abraham. "The manner in which Abraham made progress in penmanship,
writing on slabs and trees, on the ground and in the snow, anywhere that
he could find a place, reminds us forcibly of Pascal, who demonstrated
the first thirty-two propositions of Euclid in his boyhood, without the
aid of a teacher." We not only are not forcibly reminded of Pascal, but
we are not reminded of Pascal at all. The boy who imitates on slabs
mechanical lines which he has been taught, and he who originates
mathematical problems and theorems, may be as like as my fingers to my
fingers, but--alas, that it is forbidden to say--we do not see it. When
Mr. Elkins told Abraham he would make a good pioneer boy, and "'What's a
pioneer boy?' asked Abraham," why was Mr. Elkins "quite amused at this
inquiry"? and why did he "exercise his risibles for a minute" before
replying? When Mr. Stuart offered young Mr. Lincoln the use of his
law-books, and young Mr. Lincoln answered,--very properly, we should
say,--"You are very generous indeed. I could never rep