remember that a message to Congress was a different affair from a speech at a mass-meeting in Illinois—that the messages became a part of history, and should be written accordingly. "What is the matter now?" inquired the President. แ Why," said Mr. Defrees, "you have used an undignified expression in the message;" and then, reading the paragraph aloud, he added, "I would alter the structure of that, if I were you." "Defrees," replied Mr. Lincoln, "that word expresses precisely my idea, and I am not going to change it. The time will never come in this country when the people won't know exactly what sugar-coated means!" On a subsequent occasion, Mr. Defrees told me, a certain sentence of another message was very awkwardly constructed. Calling the President's attention to it in the proof-copy, the latter acknowledged the force of the objection raised, and said, "Go home, Defrees, and see if you can better it." The next day Mr. Defrees took in to him his amendment. Mr. Lincoln met him by saying: "Seward found the same fault that you did, and he has been rewriting the paragraph also." Then reading Mr. Defrees's version, he said: "I believe you have beat Seward; but, I jings'" (a common expression with him), "I think I can beat you both." Then taking up his pen, he wrote the sentence as it was finally printed. A Congressman elect, from New York State, was once pressing a matter of considerable importance upon Mr. Lincoln, urging his official action. "You must see Raymond about this," said the President (referring to the editor of the New York Times); "he is my LieutenantGeneral in politics. Whatever he says is right in the premises, shall be done." The evening before I left Washington, an incident occurred, illustrating very perfectly the character of the man. For two days my large painting had been on exhibition, upon its completion, in the East Room, which had been thronged with visitors. Late in the afternoon of the second day, the "black-horse cavalry" escort drew up as usual in front of the portico, preparatory to the President's leaving for the "Soldiers' Home," where he spent the midsummer nights. While the carriage was waiting, I looked around for him, wishing to say a farewell word, knowing that I should have no other opportunity. Presently I saw him standing half-way between the portico and the gateway leading to the War Department, leaning against the iron fence--one arm thrown over the railing, and one foot on the stone coping which supports it, evidently having been intercepted, on his way in, from the War Department, by a plain-looking man, who was giving him, very diffidently, an account of a difficulty which he had been unable to have rectified. While waiting, I walked out leisurely to the President's side. He said very little to the man, but was intently studying the expression of his face while he was narrating his trouble. When he had finished, Mr. Lincoln said to him, "Have you a blank card?" The man searched his pockets, but finding none, a gentleman standing near, who had overheard the question, came forward, and said, “Here is one, Mr. President." Several persons had, in the mean time, gathered around. Taking the card and a pencil, Mr. Lincoln sat down upon the stone coping, which is not more than five or six inches above the pavement, presenting almost the appearance of sitting upon the pavement itself, and wrote an order upon the card to the proper official to "examine this man's case." While writing this, I observed several persons passing down the promenade, smiling at each other, at what I presume they thought the undignified appearanec of the Head of the Nation, who, however seemed utterly unconscious, either of any impropriety in the action, or of attracting any attention. To me it was not only a touching picture of the native goodness of the man, but of innate nobility of character, exemplified not so much by a disregard of conventionalities, as in unconsciousness that there could be any breach of etiquette, or dignity, in the manner of an honest attempt to serve, or secure justice to a citizen of the Republic, however humble he may be. THE EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION. On the afternoon of Friday, February 5, 1864, I rang the bell of Mr. Lovejoy's boarding-house, on Fifteenth street, Washington. He was then very ill, though his friends did not apprehend that he was so near the close of his noble and faithful career. It is a sad satisfaction to me now to remember that one of the last acts of this good man's life was the writing, while sitting up in his bed, of the note introducing me to Mr. Lincoln. My first interview with the President took place the next day, at the customary Saturday afternoon public reception. Never shall I forget the thrill which went through my whole being as I first caught sight of that tall, gaunt form through a distant door, bowed down, it seemed to me, even then, with the weight of the nation he carried upon his heart, as a mother carries her suffering child, and thought of the place he held in the affections of the people, and the prayers ascending constantly, day after day, in his behalf! The crowd was passing through the rooms, and presently it was my turn and name to be announced. Greeting me very pleasantly, he soon afterward made an appointment to see me in his official chamber, directly after the close of the "reception." The hour named found me at the well-remembered door of the apartment-that door watched daily, with so many conflicting emotions of hope and fear, by the miscellaneous throng gathered there. The President was alone, and already deep in official business, which was always pressing. He received me with the frank kindness and simplicity so characteristic of his nature; and, after reading Mr. Lovejoy's note, said: "Well, Mr. Carpenter, we will turn you in loose here, and try to give you a good chance to work out your idea." Then giving me a place close beside his own arm-chair, he entered upon the account which I shall now attempt to write out, as nearly as possible in his own words, of the circumstances attending the adoption of the Emancipation policy. First, however, let me glance very briefly at the condition of the country at this juncture. The summer of 1862 was the gloomiest period of the war. After the most stupendous preparations known in modern warfare, McClellan, with an army of one hundred and sixty thousand men, had retreated from the Peninsula, after the "seven days'" severe fighting before Richmond, and great depression followed the disappointment of the brilliant hopes of the beginning of the campaign. The "On to Richmond" had been succeeded by "Back to Washington ;" and the Rebellion, flushed with success, was more defiant than ever! Thus far, the war had been prosecuted by the Administration without touching slavery in any manner. The reasons for this are admirably set forth in Mr. Lincoln's letter to Colonel Hodges. Going over substantially the same ground on an occasion I well remember, Mr. Lincoln said: "The paramount idea of the Constitution is the preservation of the Union. It may not be specified in so many words, but of this there can be no question; for without the Union the Constitution would be worthless. The Union made the Constitution, not the Constitution the Union! It seems clear that, if the emergency should arise that slavery, or any other institution, stood in the way of the maintenance of the Union, and the alternative was presented to the Executive, of the destruction of one or the other, he could not hesitate between the two. I can now," he continued, "most solemnly assert that I did all in my judgment that could be done to restore the Union without interfering with the institution of slavery. We failed, and the blow at slavery was struck!" I now take up the history of the Proclamation itself, as Mr. Lin coln gave it to me, on the occasion of our first interview, and written down by myself soon afterward : "It had got to be," said he, " midsummer, 1862. Things had gone on from bad to worse, until I felt that we had reached the end of our rope on the plan of operations we had been pursuing; that we had about played our last card, and must change our tactics or lose the game! I now determined upon the adoption of the Emancipation policy; and, without consultation with, or the knowledge of the Cabinet, I prepared the original draft of the Proclamation; and, after much anxious thought, called a Cabinet meeting upon the subject. This was the last of July, or the first part of the month of August, 1862." (The exact date he did not remember.) "This Cabinet meeting took place, I think, upon a Saturday. All were present, excepting Mr, Blair, the Postmaster-General, who was absent at the opening of the discussion, but came in subsequently. I said to the Cabinet that I had resolved upon this step, and had not called them together to ask their advice, but to lay the subject-matter of a proclamation before them; suggestions as to which would be in order, after they had heard it read. Mr. Lovejoy," said he, "was in error when he informed you that it excited no comment, excepting on the part of Secretary Seward. Various suggestions were offered. Secretary Chase wished the language stronger in reference to the arming of the blacks. Mr. Blair, after he came in, deprecated the policy, on the ground that it would cost the Administration the fall elections. Nothing, however, was offered that I had not already fully anticipated and settled in my own mind, until Secretary Seward spoke. Said he :-'Mr. President, I approve of the Proclamation, but I question the expediency of its issue at this juncture. The depression of the public mind, consequent upon our repeated reverses, is so great, that I fear the effect of so important a step, It may be viewed as the last measure of an exhausted Government-a cry for help; the Government stretching forth its hands to Ethiopia, instead of Ethiopia stretching forth her hands to the Government.' His idea," said the President, 66 was, that it would be considered our last shriek on the retreat.' (This was his precise expression.) "Now,' continued Mr. Seward, 'while I approve the measure, I suggest, sir, that you postpone its issue until you can give it to the country supported by military success, instead of issuing it, as would be the case now, upon the greatest disasters of the war!" Said Mr. Lincoln :-"The wisdom of the view of the Secretary of State struck me with very great force. It was an aspect of the case that, in all my thought upon the subject, I had entirely overlooked. The result was, that I put the draft of the Proclamation aside, as you do your sketch for a picture, waiting for a victory. From time to time I added or changed a line, touching it up here and there, waiting the progress of events. Well, the next news we had was of Pope's disaster, at Bull Run. Things looked darker than ever. Finally, came the week of the battle of Antietam. I determined to wait no longer. The news came, I think, on Wednesday, that the advantage was on our side. I was then staying at the 'Soldiers' Home'" (three miles out of Washington). "Here I finished writing the second draft of the preliminary Proclamation; came up on Saturday, called the Cabinet together to hear it, and it was published the following Monday. "It was a somewhat remarkable fact," he continued, "that there were just one hundred days between the dates of the two proclamations, issued upon the 22d of September and the 1st of January. I had not made the calculation at the time." At the final meeting on Saturday, another interesting incident occurred in connection with Secretary Seward. The President had written the important part of the Proclamation in these words : "That on the first day of January, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-three, all persons held as slaves within any State or designated part of a State, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be then, thenceforward, and forever, FREE; and the Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authority thereof, will recognize the freedom of such persons, and will do no act or acts to repress such persons, or any persons, or any of them, in any efforts they may make for their actual freedom."-" When I finished reading this paragraph," resumed Mr. Lincoln, "Mr. Seward stopped me, and said: 'I think, Mr. President, that you should insert after the word "recognize,” in that sentence, the words "and maintain." I replied that I had already fully considered the import of that expression in this connection, but I had not introduced it, because it was not my way to promise what I was not entirely sure that I could perform, and I was not prepared to say that I thought we were exactly able to maintain' this." "But," said he, "Mr. Seward insisted that we ought to take this ground; and the words finally went in." Mr. Lincoln then proceeded to show me the various positions occupied by himself and the different members of the cabinet on the occasion of the first meeting. "As nearly as I remember," said he, |