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that, in the face of all these influences, he is a strictly temperate man, never using wine or strong drink; and stranger still, he does not 'twist the filthy weed,' nor smoke, nor use profane language of any kind. When we consider how common these vices are all over our country, particularly in the West, it must be admitted that it exhibits no little strength of character to have refrained from them.

"Mr. Lincoln is popular with his friends and neighbors; the habitual equity of his mind points him out as a peacemaker and composer of difficulties; his integrity is proverbial; and his legal abilities are regarded as of the highest order. The soubriquet of 'Honest old Abe,' has been won by years of upright conduct, and is the popular homage to his probity. He carries the marks of honesty in his face and entire deportment.

"I am the more convinced by this personal intercourse with Mr. Lincoln, that the action of our Convention was altogether judicious and proper."

The Tribune gives the subjoined incident:

"Probably no attribute of our candidate will, after all, endear him so much to the popular heart as the cooviction that he is emphatically one of the people.' His manhood has not been compressed into the artificial track of society; but his great heart and vigorous intellect have been allowed a generous development amid his solitary struggles in the forest and the prairie. With vision unobscured by the mists of sophistry, he distinguishes at the first glance between what is true and what is false, and with will and courage fortified by his life of hardship, he is not the man to shirk any responsibility, or to shrink from any opposition. Moreover, he is peculiarly one to win our confidence and affection. To know honest Abe' is to love him; and his neighbors in the West, although voting for him to a man, will mourn the victory which is to deprive them

of his presence. The following incident will exhibit Lincoln in one of those unobtrusive acts of goodness which adorn his life. The circumstance was related by a teacher from the Five-Points' House of Industry in this city: Our Sunday-school in the Five-Points was assembled, one Sabbath morning, a few months since, when I noticed a tall and remarkable looking man enter the room and take a seat among us. He listened with fixed attention to our exercises, and his countenance manifested such genuine interest, that I approached him and suggested that he might be willing to say something to the children. He accepted the invitation with evident pleasure, and coming forward, began a simple address, which at once fascinated every little hearer, and hushed the room into silence. His language was strikingly beautiful, and his tones musical with intensest feeling. The little faces around would droop into sad conviction, as he uttered sentences of warning, and would brighten into sunshine as he spoke cheerful words of promise. Once or twice he attempted to close his remarks, but the imperative shout of "Go on!" "Oh, do go on !" would compel him to resume. As I looked upon the gaunt and sinewy frame of the stranger, and marked his powerful head and determined features, now touched into softness by the impressions of the moment, I felt an irrepressible curiosity to learn something more about him, and when he was quietly leaving the room, I begged to know his name. He courteously replied, "It is Abraham Lincoln, from Illinois !"""


That the Convention at Chicago acted wisely and sagaciously, no man can for a moment doubt who looks over the field and sees the enthusiasm of the people over the nominations. That Lincoln and Hamlin can be, and will be, elected to the places to which they have been nominated we have no manner of doubt, and we

cannot do better than to finish our sketch of Mr. Lincoln by quoting the following admirable song of one of America's most gifted sons, William Henry Burleigh, of New-York:

Up, again for the conflict! our banner fling out,

And rally around it with song and with shout!

Stout of heart, firm of hand, should the gallant boys be,

Who bear to the battle the Flag of the Free!

Like our fathers, when Liberty called to the strife,

They should pledge to her cause fortune, honor, and life!

And follow wherever she beckons them on,

Till Freedom exults in a victory won!

Then fling out the banner, the old starry banner,
The battle-torn banner that beckons us on!

They come from the hillside, they come from the glen-
From the streets thronged with traffic, and surging with men
From loom and from ledger, from workshop and farm,

The fearless of heart, and the mighty of arm.

As the mountain-born torrents exultingly leap,
When their ice-fetters melt, to the breast of the deep;
As the winds of the prairie, the waves of the sea,
They are coming-are coming-the Sons of the Free!

Then fling out the banner, the old starry banner,
The war-tattered banner, the flag of the Free!

Our Leader is one who, with conquerless will,
Has climbed from the base to the brow of the hill;
Undaunted in peril, unwavering in strife,

He has fought a good fight in the Battle of Life
And we trust him as one who, come woe or come weal,
Is as firm as the rock, and as true as the steel,

Right loyal and brave, with no stain on his crest,
Then, hurrah, boys, for honest "Old Abe of the West!"
And fling out your banner, the old starry banner,
The signal of triumph for "Abe of the West!"

The West, whose broad acres, from lake-shore to sea,
Now wait for the harvest and homes of the free!
Shall the dark tide of Slavery roll o'er the sod,
That Freedom makes bloom like the garden of God?
The bread of our children be torn from their mouth,
To feed the fierce dragon that preys on the South?
No, never! the trust which our Washington laid
On us, for the Future, shall ne'er be betrayed!

Then fling out the banner, the old starry banner,
And on to the conflict with hearts undismayed!



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