s a good man. He was what might be
called a ne'er-do-well. As the world counts success, Thomas Lincoln,
the father of Abraham Lincoln, was not successful, but he was an
honest man. He was a truthful man. He was a man of faith. He
worshipped God. He belonged to the church. He was a member of a
congregation in Charleston, Ill., which I had the honor to serve in
the beginning of my ministry, known as the Christian Church. He died
not far from Charleston, and is buried a few miles distant from the
beautiful little town, the county seat of Coles County, Ill.

During the last illness of his father, Lincoln wrote a letter to his
step-brother, John Johnston, which closes with the following
sentences: "I sincerely hope that father may recover his health, but
at all events tell him to remember to call upon and confide in our
great, and good, and merciful Maker, who will not turn away from him
in any extremity. He notes the fall of the sparrow, and numbers the
hairs of our heads, and He will not forget the dying man who puts his
trust in Him. Say to him that if we could meet now it is doubtful
whether it would not be more painful than pleasant, but that if it be
his lot to go now he will soon have a joyful meeting with loved ones
gone before, and where the rest of us, through the mercy of God, hope
ere long to join them."

From this it appears that Lincoln cherished a hope of life everlasting
through the mercy of God. This sounds very much like the talk of a
Christian.

Although Lincoln was not a church member, he was a man of prayer. He
believed that God can hear, does hear, and answer prayer. Lincoln said
in conversation with General Sickles concerning the battle of
Gettysburg, that he had no anxiety as to the result. At this General
Sickles expressed surprise, and inquired into the reason for this
unusual state of mind at that period in the history of the war.
Lincoln hesitated to accede to the request of General Sickles, but was
finally prevailed upon to do so, and this is what he said:

"Well, I will tell you how it was. In the pinch of your campaign up
there, when everybody seemed panic stricken, and nobody could tell
what was going to happen, oppressed by the gravity of our affairs, I
went into my room one day and locked the door, and got down on my
knees before Almighty God, and prayed to Him mightily for victory at
Gettysburg. I told Him this was His war, and our cause His cause, but
that we could not stand another F