_"How beautiful to see Once more a shepherd of mankind indeed. Who loved his charge, but never loved to lead; One whose meek flock the people joyed to be, Not lured by any cheat of birth, But by his clear-grained human worth, And brave old wisdom of sincerity! They knew that outward grace is dust; They could not choose but trust In that sure-footed mind's unfaltering skill, And supple-tempered will That bent like perfect steel to spring again and thrust. His was no lonely mountain-peak of mind, Thrusting to thin air o'er our cloudy bars, A sea-mark now, now lost in vapors blind; Broad prairie rather, genial, level-lined, Fruitful and friendly for all human kind, Yet also nigh to heaven and loved of loftiest stars_. _"Great captains, with their guns and drums, Disturb our judgment for the hour, But at last silence comes; These all are gone, and, standing like a tower, Our children shall behold his fame, The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, New birth of our new soil, the first American."_ JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. [Illustration: ABRAHAM LINCOLN FROM AN UNPUBLISHED ORIGINAL DRAWING BY JOHN NELSON MARBLE] THE EVERY-DAY LIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN A NARRATIVE AND DESCRIPTIVE BIOGRAPHY WITH PEN-PICTURES AND PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS BY THOSE WHO KNEW HIM BY FRANCIS FISHER BROWNE _Compiler of "Golden Poems," "Bugle Echoes, Pose of the Civil War," "Laurel-Crowned Verse," etc._ NEW AND THOROUGHLY REVISED EDITION, FROM NEW PLATES, WITH AN ENTIRELY NEW PORTRAIT OF LINCOLN, FROM A CHARCOAL STUDY BY J.K. MARBLE CHICAGO BROWNE & HOWELL COMPANY 1913 FRANCIS FISHER BROWNE _1843-1913_ The present revision of "The Every-day Life of Abraham Lincoln" was the last literary labor of its author. He had long wished to undertake the work, and had talked much of it for several years past. But favorable arrangements for the book's republication were not completed until about a year ago. Then, though by no means recovered from an attack of pneumonia late in the previous winter, he took up the task of revision and recasting with something of his old-time energy. It was a far heavier task than he had anticipated, but he gave it practically his undivided attention until within three or four weeks of his death. Only when the last pages of manuscript had been despatched to the printer did he yield to the overwhelming physical suffering that had been upon him for a long time past. His death occurred at Santa Barbara, California, on May 11.