BOOKS.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN AND THE CIVIL WAR.*

• Personal Rec,liccifons of Abraham Lincoln and the Civil War. R. Gilmore (almond Kirke). London : John Mao4ueen. [12s.]

Ma. Grxatoaa's book is not in any sense an epoch-making contribution to the history of President Lincoln, but, in spite of that, it is a very interesting and readable book. If it does not add anything that is absolutely new to our knowledge of the hero of the Civil War, it at any rate provides some very pleasant and helpful touches to the picture. The accounts of Mr. Lincoln especially bring out the man's splendid equanimity and balance of mind. "When the poles crashed," and war was the world, or, at any rate, the world of America, he sat impartial, cool-headed, and serene,—or serene on the surface, for doubt- less the depths of that kind, gracious, and pitiful nature were perturbed by the miseries of the war, and by the thought of how the cruel sabre was severing ancient friendships, oblitera- ting household affections that had lasted whole genera- tions, destroying the sacred charities of the hearth, and separating husband from wife, father from children, brother from brother. The surface of the pool was clear and unruffled, even though far beneath the cross-currents of pity and indignation, of humanity that cried mercy and patriotism that must be ruthless, of hope and of despair, fought unseen in an agony of strife. Many men before and since Mr. Lincoln have kept calm in the stress of a great crisis. But, as a rule, they are saved from agitation either by a native cynicism, or by its assumption as a part. Mr. Lincoln's serenity needed no such safeguard. He was not cynical by nature, and he did not assume cynicism as a cloak. He could be calm without being cold, keep his head without sneering, be cheerful without indifference. How different from Horace G reeley, the perfervid journalist, who may be described as the second hero of Mr. Gilmore's reminiscences ! He found it difficult to believe that a man was in earnest unless he was foaming at the month, or that he was strong unless he was swearing. Horace Greeley, however, was a great power in the land, and Mr. Lineoln knew it, and was anxious to make use of that

power for the public good. Between the thundering Tribune and the great statesman at Washington Mr. Gilmore acted

as a kind of confidential intermediary. Though Mr. Gilmore occasionally wavered, impressed by Horace Greeley's declara- tions that Lincoln was mismanaging public affairs, it is curious to note that actual contact with the President always convinced him that Mr. Lincoln was in the right, and that his critics did not realise the true state of public affairs.

The transcript of a conversation held with Mr. Lincoln in May, 1863, is specially interesting, because it shows Mr.

Lincoln speaking of the war in the same spirit, and almost in the same words, which he used in the Second Inaugural.

Here are his remarks as to the question of amnesty and the abolitionof slavery with compensation. At the beginning of this passage Mr. Lincoln states the greatest of all lessons for public life,—remember that your opponent may hold a wrong view just as honestly and conscientiously as you hold a right one.

But though this must make you fair to your opponents, it must not paralyse your arm. You must not hesitate when

necessary to use the vItinza ratio of force because you think your opponent sincere in a bad cause :— " I do; and I will say to you that, individually, I should be disposed to make compensation for the slaves ; but I doubt if my Cabinet or the country would favour that. What do you think public opinion would be about it ? Nicolay tells me you have recently lectured all over the North; you must have heard people talk.'—` I have, sir, almost everywhere; and my opinion is that not one voter in ten would pay the South a dollar. Still, I have observed very little hatred or bitterness in any quarter'— 'No,' he answered, 'the feeling is against slavery, not against the South. The war has educated our people into abolition, and they now deny that slaves can be property. But there are two sides to that question : one is ours, the other the Southern side ; and those people are just as honest and conscientious in their opinion as we are in ours. They think they have a moral and legal right to their slaves, and until very recently the North has been of the same opinion; for two hundred years the whole country has admitted it, and regarded and treated the slaves as property. Now, does the mere fact that the North has come suddenly to a contrary opinion give us the right to take the slaves from their owners without compensation ? The blacks must be freed. Slavery is the bone we are fighting over. It must be got out of the way, to give us permanent peace; and if we have to fight this war till the South is subjugated, then I think we shall be justified in freeing the slaves without com- pensation. But in any settlement arrived at before they force things to that extremity, is it not right and fair that we should make payment for the slaves ?'—' If I were a slaveholder,' I answered, I should probably say that it was ; but you, sir, have to deal with things as they are, and I think that if you were to sound public sentiment at the North you would find it utterly opposed to any compromise with the South. A vast majority would regard compensation as a price paid for peace, and not for the slaves.'—' So I think,' he said, and therefore I fear we can come to no adjustment. I fear the war must go on till North and South have both drunk of the cup to the very dregs,—till both have worked out in pain, and grief, and bitter humiliation the sin of two hundred years. It has seemed to me that God so wills it; and the first gleam I have had of a hope to the contrary is in this letter of Jaquess. This thing, irregular as it is, may mean that the higher powers are about to take a hand in this business, and bring about a settlement. I know if I were to say this out loud, nine men in ten would think I had gone crazy. But—you are a thinking man—just consider it. Here is a man, cool, deliberate, God-fearing, of exceptional sagacity and worldly wisdom, who undertakes a project that strikes you and me as utterly chimerical; he attempts to bring about, single-handed, and on his own hook, a peace between two great sections. More- over, he gets it into his head that God has laid this work upon him, and he is willing to stake his life upon that conviction. The impulse on him is overpowering, as it was upon Luther, when he said, "God help me. I can do no otherwise." Now, how do you account for this ? What produces this feeling in him ? An easy answer would be to say that Jaquess is a fanatic.'— ' But,' he replied, he is very far from being a fanatic. He is remarkably level-headed; I never knew a man more so. Can you account for it, except on his own supposition, that God is in it ? And, if that be so, something will come out of it, perhaps not what Jaquess expects, but what will be of service to the right. So, though there is risk about it, I shall let him go.'"

The allusion to Jaquess requires a word of explanation. This noble-hearted Puritan soldier was most anxious to be allowed to go alone and without any regular credentials into the South in order to try and persuade the Confederate leaders to make peace. Ultimately Mr. Gilmore and Colonel Jaquess went together into the South and there discussed the possibility of peace with Mr. Davis and Mr. Benjamin, and most interest- ing and romantic is the account of their mission set forth in the present volume. We cannot, however, find space here to quote any part of this striking story, nor, again, can we deal with the Draft riots in New York and the attempt to burn

the Tribune office. We must, nevertheless, before we leave Mr. Gilmore's book mention his chapter on "The Great

Conspiracy,"—a desperate attempt made by the South to carry the war into the enemy's camp by raising an insurrection in Chicago, and then breaking into the prison where many thousands of Confederate soldiers were interned. Had this been accomplished, a formid- able force would have been in arms in the rear of the Federal armies. It is a really splendid conspiracy story, and when the American Walter Scott arises, as he will some day, it may form the plot of a romance as exciting as anything in the " Waverley Novels." In truth, the whole story of the Civil War is irradiated with romance,—the nature of the people and the scenery of the theatre of war are as romantic, or even more romantic, than the Border. If there are no castles, there are mighty rivers, deep forests, vast stretches of wilderness, lakes, and swamps. Again, think of the moral contrasts in the Puritan warriors of the North, some of them humble fanatics, others grave, earnest-minded gentlemen like our Hampdene, Fairfaxes, and Hutchinsons; and the passionate, luxurious, proud, domineering, and yet gallant cavaliers of the South.

Depend upon it, after another hundred years have passed over the English race, the Border States at the time of the Civil War will be the natural place for the novelist to choose for

the surroundings of a romantic story. Then, no doubt, we shall find the Southern cause as popular in the North as that of the Jacobites with us to-day, and men who can boast a direct lineage from the heroes and patriots of the North

will forget so noble a descent and only think it worth while to boast of " rebel " blood. Be that as it may, Mr. Gilmore's book is full of the material for romance, and we confidently recommend it to the Wizard of the West, who is perhaps at this moment being born in New, or maybe

in Old, England. After all we Englishmen on this side of the Atlantic have as good a right to be stirred by the romance of the war as the New Englishmen across the water. We may as James claim that our race produced a Lincoln, just as they may

claim that their race produced a Cromwell.