In self-conscious “deportment,” Mr. Lincoln was utterly deficient; in true unconscious _dignity_, he was unsurpassed. He would sit down on the stone-coping outside the White House to write on his card the directions by which a poor man might be relieved from his sorrow, looking as he did so as if he were sitting on the pavement; or he would actually lie down on the grass beside a common soldier, and go over his papers with him, while his carriage waited, and great men gathered around; but no man ever dared to be impertinent, or unduly familiar with him. Once an insolent officer accused him to his face of injustice, and he arose, lifted the man by the collar, and carried him out, kicking. But this is, I believe, the only story extant of any one having treated him with insolence. Hunting popularity by means of petty benevolence is so usual with professional politicians, that many may suspect that Lincoln was not unselfish in his acts of kindness. But I myself know of one instance of charity exercised by him, which was certainly most disinterested. One night, a poor old man, whose little farm had been laid waste during the war, and who had come to Washington, hoping that Government would repay his loss, found himself penniless in the streets of the capital. A person whom I know very well saw him accost the President, who listened to his story, and then, writing something on a piece of paper, gave it to him, and with it a ten-dollar note. The President went his way, and my acquaintance going up to the old man, who was deeply moved, asked him what was the matter. “I thank God,” said the old man, using a quaint American phrase, “that there are some _white_ people[36] in this town. I’ve been tryin’ to get somebody to listen to me, and nobody would, because I’m a poor foolish old body. But just now a stranger listened to all my story, and give me this here.” He said this, showing the money and the paper, which contained a request to Secretary Stanton to have the old man’s claim investigated at once, and, if just, promptly satisfied. When it is remembered that Lincoln went into office and out of it a poor man, or at least a very poor man for one in his position, his frequent acts of charity appear doubly creditable. Whatever may be said of Lincoln, he was always simply and truly _a good man_. He was a good father to his children, and a good President to the people, whom he loved as if they had been his children. America and the rest of the world have had many great rulers, but never one who, like Lincoln, was so much one of the people, or who was so sympathetic in their sorrows and trials. APPENDIX. [FROM THE NEW YORK EVENING POST, AUGUST 16, 1867.] HIS LECTURE AT THE COOPER INSTITUTE IN 1860. _To the Editor of The Evening Post_: