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after, I went to New York and also returned by way of Niagara Falls.
In the office, a few days after my return, I was endeavoring to entertain my partner with an account of my trip, and among other things described the Falls.
In the attempt I indulged in a good deal of imagery.
As I warmed up with the subject my descriptive powers expanded accordingly.
The mad rush of water, the roar, the rapids, and the rainbow furnished me with an abundance of material for a stirring and impressive picture.
The recollection of the gigantic and awe-inspiring scene stimulated my exuberant powers to the highest pitch.
After well-nigh exhausting myself in the effort I turned to Lincoln for his opinion.
“What,” I inquired, “made the deepest impression on you when you stood in the presence of the great natural wonder?
I shall never forget his answer, because it in a very characteristic way illustrates how he looked at everything.”
“The thing that struck me most forcibly when I saw the Falls,” he responded, “was, where in the world did all that water come from?”
He had no eye for the magnificence and grandeur of the scene, for the rapids, the mist, the angry waters, and the roar of the whirlpool, but his mind, working in its accustomed channel, heedless of beauty or awe, followed irresistibly back to the first cause.
It was in this light he viewed every question.
However great the verbal foliage that concealed the nakedness of a good idea Lincoln stripped it all down till he could see clear the way between cause and effect.
If there was any secret in his power this surely was it.
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