convention that you shouted across the street to a
friend as I passed: 'Let the dead bury the dead!' It was a brilliant sally
of wit. I laughed at it myself. And yet the people unanimously called me
again to lead them to victory."

"Yes, in the past," said Stoneman bitterly, "you have triumphed, but mark
my word: from this hour your star grows dim. The slumbering fires of
passion will be kindled. In the fight we join to-day I'll break your back
and wring the neck of every dastard and time-server who fawns at your
feet."

The President broke into a laugh that only increased the old man's wrath.

"I protest against the insult of your buffoonery!"

"Excuse me, Stoneman; I have to laugh or die beneath the burdens I bear,
surrounded by such supporters!"

"Mark my word," growled the old leader, "from the moment you publish that
North Carolina proclamation, your name will be a by-word in Congress."

"There are higher powers."

"You will need them."

"I'll have help," was the calm reply, as the dreaminess of the poet and
mystic stole over the rugged face. "I would be a presumptuous fool,
indeed, if I thought that for a day I could discharge the duties of this
great office without the aid of One who is wiser and stronger than all
others."

"You'll need the help of Almighty God in the course you've mapped out!"

"Some ships come into port that are not steered," went on the dreamy
voice. "Suppose Pickett had charged one hour earlier at Gettysburg?
Suppose the _Monitor_ had arrived one hour later at Hampton Roads? I had a
dream last night that always presages great events. I saw a white ship
passing swiftly under full sail. I have often seen her before. I have
never known her port of entry, or her destination, but I have always known
her Pilot!"

The cynic's lips curled with scorn. He leaned heavily on his cane, and
took a shambling step toward the door.

"You refuse to heed the wishes of Congress?"

"If your words voice them, yes. Force your scheme of revenge on the South,
and you sow the wind to reap the whirlwind."

"Indeed! and from what secret cave will this whirlwind come?"

"The despair of a mighty race of world-conquering men, even in defeat, is
still a force that statesmen reckon with."

"I defy them," growled the old Commoner.

Again the dreamy look returned to Lincoln's face, and he spoke as if
repeating a message of the soul caught in the clouds in an hour of
transfiguration:

"And I'll trust the