within himself, and he was in a continual quest for something that would bring him peace. Part of this restless searching took him into the field of love. But he had no overwhelming passion or any definite ideal for which to strive. As with everything else in life, he was experimenting and letting outside forces direct him. The result was that his questings in the field of love gave him no satisfaction. About a year after the death of Ann Rutledge it seems there was another lady whom circumstances threw into his life, or better, whom he permitted circumstance to throw into his life. She was a Miss Mary Owens. She was born in the same year as Lincoln himself, and he met her for the first time in 1833 when she had come from Kentucky to visit for a few weeks a sister in New Salem. Three years later Lincoln suggested to the sister, who was returning to Kentucky to pay her family a visit, that if she brought her sister Mary back with her he would marry her. The two sisters returned together, and Lincoln felt himself bound by this vague arrangement to live up to his promise of marriage. His own version of the matter, written in a letter to Mrs Browning after the close of the affair, gave a certain side-light to the part he played in this strange drama. However, this one letter, which the biographers display to show his exact feelings, could not possibly portray the many-sided emotions which must have come to him during the whole year in which this story unfolded. His letters to her are perhaps more of an index to his feelings than the last letter written to a friend after the pain of separation was well over, and peace had set in. It was because of the still lingering pain, perhaps, that he gave his humour so wide a range.

In his first letter to Miss Owens, from Vandalia, he speaks of going daily to the post-office for her letters, which seem never to arrive. "You see," he says, "I am mad about that old letter yet; I do not like to risk you again; I will try you once more anyhow." "You recollect," he says farther on, "I mentioned at the outset of this letter that I had been unwell; that is the fact, though I believe I am about well now. But that, with other things I cannot account for, have conspired and have gotten my spirit so low that I feel I would rather be in any place in the world than here. I really cannot endure the thought of staying here ten weeks. Write back as soon as you get this, and if possible say something that will please me. For really I have not been pleased since I left you."

At the adjournment of the Legislature he went back to Springfield, and it was here that unhappiness and doubt assailed him. It was an easy drive from Springfield to New Salem, and he could see Miss Owens often. However, when it came to the crucial task of proposing marriage, he did not seem to trust himself, and we find two strange letters of the lover, arguing his case against himself. The one is dated Springfield, 7th May 1837:

"FRIEND MARY,—I have commenced two letters to send you before this, both of which displeased me before I got half done, and so I tore them up. The first I thought wasn't serious enough, and the second was on the other extreme. I shall send this, turn out as it may.

"This thing of living in Springfield is rather a dull business after all-at least, it is so to me. I am quite as lonesome here as (I) ever was anywhere in my life. I have been spoken to by but one woman since I've been here, and

should not have been by her if she could have avoided it. I've never been to church yet, and probably shall not be soon. I stay away because I am conscious I should not know how to behave myself. I am often thinking of what we said of your coming to live at Springfield. I am afraid you would not be satisfied. There is a great deal of flourishing about in carriages here, which it would be your doom to see without sharing in it. You would have to be poor without the means of hiding your poverty. Do you believe you could bear that patiently? Whatever woman may cast her lot with mine, should anyone ever do so, it is my intention to do all in my power to make her happy and contented, and there is nothing I can imagine that would make me more unhappy than to fail in the effort. I know I should be much happier with you than the way I am, provided I saw no signs of discontent in you.

"What you have said to me may have been in jest, or I may have misunderstood it. If so, then let it be forgotten; if otherwise, I much wish you would think seriously before you decide. For my part I have already decided. What I have said I will most positively abide by, provided you wish it. My opinion is you had better not do it. You have not been accustomed to hardship, and it may be more severe than you imagine. I know you are capable of thinking correctly on any subject, and if you deliberate maturely upon this before you decide, then I am willing to abide by your decision.

"You must write me a good long letter after you get this. You have nothing else to do, and though it might not seem interesting to you after you have written it, it would be a good deal of company in this busy wilderness. Tell your sister I don't want to hear any more about selling out and moving. That gives me the hypo whenever I think of it.— Yours, etc., LINCOLN "

He evidently succeeded in bringing the lady around