In that great address which he gave on the occasion of his being sworn in the first time as President of the United States, toward the close, he said, "Why should there not be a patient confidence in the ultimate justice of the people? Is there any better or equal hope in the world? In our present differences is either party without faith in being right? If the Almighty ruler of nations, with his eternal truth and justice, be on your side of the North, or on yours of the South, that truth and that justice will surely prevail, by the judgment of this great tribunal of the American people." [Illustration: Lincoln Monument--Springfield, Illinois.] At the last of his inaugural address he said, referring to the people of the South, "In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The government will not assail you. You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. You have no oath registered in Heaven to destroy the government; while I have the most solemn one to 'preserve, protect and defend' it." It was in 1840, when he set this standard that made him worthy of being called the savior of his nation. In a great political address at that time, he said, "Let it be my proud plume not that I was the last to desert (my country), but that I never deserted her." The result is a united and powerful America facing the centuries of human posterity as a working place for the enlargement of freedom accomplished as rapidly as is possible through the perfection of character and civilization. II. TYPICAL INCIDENTS FROM AMONG MOMENTOUS SCENES Lincoln's many forms of kindness are exemplified in such a continuous series of acts, during his period of almost unlimited political power, that only a few typical instances need to be described. One day a woman got past the doorkeeper and thrust herself into his presence. Her husband was captured and condemned to be shot. He was one of the hated Mosby guerillas. She had come to beg for his pardon. She weepingly poured out the story of his kindness, his love for his family and that they could hardly live without him. She said that she was a Northern woman, that she would take him to their home, and, on his parole and her promise, he should never again do harm to his country. She had papers also setting forth these facts. Lincoln examined them and decided to parole the husband in her care. At hearing this, the woman sobbed with joy as if her heart would burst with gratitude. "My dear woman," said Lincoln, listening to her hysterical sobs, "if I had known it would make you feel so bad as this, I would never have pardoned him." "You do not understand me," she cried, fearful that he might reverse his decision. "Yes, I do," he replied, "but if you do not go away at once I shall soon be crying with you."