The careless, foot-free, waggish woodchopper of New Salem had scoffed at religion, and written a bitter attack on the Bible, which a wiser friend had snatched from his hands and burned. The President-elect with the cares of a mighty nation in its death throes descending upon his shoulders, stretched his hands child-like to a power greater even than the “omnipotent and sovereign people.” [Illustration: Fac-simile of Lincoln’s letter of acceptance] Mr. Herndon, his law partner, has given us an unforgetable picture of Lincoln a day before his departure for the White House: “He crossed to the opposite side of the room and threw himself down on the old office sofa, which, after many years of service, had been moved against the wall for support. He lay for some moments, his face towards the ceiling, without either of us speaking. Presently he inquired, ‘Billy’--he always called me by that name--‘how long have we been together?’ ‘Over sixteen years,’ I answered. ‘We’ve never had a cross word in all that time, have we?’... He gathered a bundle of papers and books he wished to take with him, and started to go; but, before leaving, he made the strange request that the sign-board which swung on its rusty hinges at the foot of the stairway should remain. ‘Let it hang there,’ he said, with a significant lowering of the voice. ‘Give our clients to understand that the election of a President makes no change in the firm of Lincoln & Herndon. If I live, I am coming back some time, and then we’ll go right on practising law as if nothing had happened.’ He lingered for a moment, as if to take a last look at the old quarters, and then he passed through the door into the narrow hallway.” On the day Lincoln left Springfield to take the oath of office at Washington he stood in a cold rain on the rear end of the train that was to take him away, and addressed a bareheaded crowd. His face worked with emotion. His lips trembled and his voice shook. His eyes sought the faces of his old neighbors with a new sadness. “To-day I leave you,” he said, bending his tall, ugly figure, as if in benediction. “I go to assume a task more difficult than that which devolved upon Washington. Unless the great God who assisted him shall be with me and aid me, I must fail.” Strong men in the crowd wept. “But if the same omniscient mind and almighty arm that directed and protected him shall guide and support me, I shall not fail--I shall succeed.” The long arms and bony hands were extended. The crooked mouth quivered, the gray eyes were moist, and the tall figure seemed to grow taller. “Let us all pray that the God of our fathers may not forsake us now.” With that prayer on his lips Lincoln went on his way to Washington through many a cheering multitude that uncovered as the train passed.