John Harrison Wilson, The life of Charles Henry Dana

“ [314] master and they the subordinates.” When he yielded to them, it was because they convinced him that they were right-never because he wished to avoid responsibility. In their judgment much was imperfect in the administration. They were frequently impatient with the President, but he was never so with them. Calm, equable, and uncomplaining, he was always considerate, pleasant, and cordial. He was never in a hurry, and never tried to hurry any one else. In every discussion, even in every joke, he showed the profoundest thought and the most matured wisdom. It was his word that went at last, and his decision that closed every argument. His authority, his reserve force, and his gigantic frame were most impressive. There was nothing flabby or feeble about him. With tremendous powers of endurance, he worked every day, and every night when necessary, as though he had done nothing the day before. With a smile as engaging as that of a woman, there was such a charm and beauty about his expression, such good-humor and friendly spirit looking from his eyes, that you never thought whether he was awkward or graceful; you thought of nothing except what a kindly character this man has-how benevolence and benignity were combined in his appearance-how intelligence and goodness were combined in his character. You felt that here was a man who saw through things, who understood things, and was entitled to your respect accordingly.

This is in substance Dana's estimate of Lincoln as a president and as a man, but, high as it is, he thought him still higher as a politician. Indeed, he regarded him as easily the first American in that class, and mainly because he had an extraordinary knowledge of human nature. He appears to have taken Dana into his inmost confidence in such matters during the earlier months of 1864, and to have consulted him fully about the amendment to the