discharge of duties and responsibilities which could not be evaded. Mr. Lincoln listened patiently and respectfully for a time to this strong and pointed exhortation. He was evidently much affected by it, but as the doctor proceeded he became lost in his own reflections. From this revery he was aroused by words which had a magical effect. "To mourn excessively for the departed as lost," continued Dr. Vinton, "is foreign to our religion. It belongs not to Christianity, but to heathenism. Your son is alive in Paradise." When these last words were uttered, Mr. Lincoln, as if suddenly awakened from a dream, exclaimed, "Alive! alive! Surely you mock me!" These magic words had startled him, and his countenance showed that he was profoundly distressed. Without heeding the President's emotion, the doctor continued, in a tone of deep solemnity, "Seek not your son among the dead, for he is not there. God is not the God of the dead, but of the living. Did not the ancient patriarch mourn for his son as dead? 'Joseph is not, and Simeon is not, and ye will take Benjamin also.' The fact that Benjamin was taken away made him the instrument, eventually, in saving the whole family." Applying this Scriptural test, the doctor told Mr. Lincoln that his little son had been called by the All-Wise and Merciful Father to His upper kingdom; that, like Joseph, the departed boy might be the means of saving the President's household; and that it must be considered as a part of the Lord's plan for the ultimate happiness of the family. Mr. Lincoln was deeply moved by this consolatory exhortation. The respected divine had touched a responsive chord. His strong words, spoken with such evident sincerity and in a manner so earnest and impressive, brought strength as well as comfort to the illustrious mourner; and there is no doubt that this remarkable interview had a good effect in helping to recall to Mr. Lincoln a more healthful state of feeling, and in restoring his accustomed self-control. Willie had inherited the amiable disposition and a large share of the talent of his father. He was a child of great promise, and his death was sincerely mourned by all who knew him. Mr. Lincoln's fondness for his children knew no bounds. It wellnigh broke his heart to use his paternal authority in correcting their occasional displays of temper or insubordination; but when occasion required the sacrifice, he showed great firmness in teaching them the strictest obedience. I remember a very amusing instance of this sort of contest between his indulgent fondness and his sense of what was due to his guiding authority as a father.