lated they would.

Soon after I was elected to Congress, and soon after Mr. Lincoln
was elected the second time, I came on to Washington. Having been
intimate with Mr. Nicolay and Mr. Hay who were his secretaries, I
was in the habit of frequenting their rooms without ceremony. One
evening, just after dusk, I went to the White House and quietly,
as usual, entered Mr. Nicolay's room. It so happened that Mr.
Lincoln and Mr. Seward, with some other cabinet officers, were in
the room, holding a consultation. I had opened the door before I
observed who were there. President Lincoln saw me quite as soon
as I saw him, and I was very much embarrassed. He sang out cheerily,
"Come in!" and turning to his Secretary of State, he added, "Seward,
you remember my old friend Stuart? Here is the boy that beat him."
I stayed for only a moment, and then went out. That is the nearest
I ever came to participating in a cabinet meeting.

That incident in my life, as I now look back, punctuates, in my
individual way of thinking at this moment, the substantial close
of what was mortal in that great man's earthly career. The close
of the four years of civil war was clearly in sight. It was in
many respects a record-making and a record-breaking war. The navies
of the world, rendered helpless by the incidental effects of its
thundering guns, had to be rebuilt. For the first time in the
world's history the railroad and the electric telegraph played a
very considerable part. The grip of insatiate despotism on Democratic
institutions was effectually loosened far and wide. For the first
time in war the lessons taught in the art of warfare by Alexander
and Caesar were utterly ignored, and the "Maxims of Napoleon" were
relegated to the shelf, there to gather dust. In short, in
inaugurated a new era in the history not only of our own country
but of the entire world.

CHAPTER VII
LINCOLN
1860 to 1864

As days and years pass by and an enlightened humanity studies and
comprehends the real greatness and simplicity of Abraham Lincoln,
he comes nearer and becomes dearer to all. No weak compliment of
words can add to his renown, nor will any petty criticism detract
from the glory which has crowned his memory. The passing of time
has only added brightness to his character; the antagonisms of
bitter war have left no shade upon his name; and the hatred which,
for a brief time, spent itself in harmless words has turned to
reverence and lov