still devolved on us, and the brighter days yet to come.  At one or two points the soldiers began to cheer, but he promptly checked them, saying:  ’Don’t cheer, boys.  I confess I rather like it myself, but Colonel Sherman here says that it is not military; and I guess we had better defer to his opinion.’  In winding up, he explained that, as President, he was commander-in-chief; that he was resolved that the soldiers should have everything that the law allowed; and he called on one and all to appeal to him personally in case they were wronged.  The effect of this speech was excellent.  We passed along in the same manner to all the camps of my brigade; and Mr. Lincoln complimented me highly for the order, cleanliness, and discipline that he observed.  Indeed, he and Mr. Seward both assured me that it was the first bright moment that they had experienced since the battle.”

“In the crowd at Fort Corcoran,” continues General Sherman, “I saw an officer with whom I had had a little difficulty that morning.  His face was pale and his lips were compressed.  I foresaw a scene, but sat on the front seat of the carriage as quiet as a lamb.  This officer forced his way through the crowd to the carriage, and said:  ’Mr. President, I have a cause of grievance.  This morning I went to speak to Colonel Sherman, and he threatened to shoot me.’  Mr. Lincoln, who was still standing, said, ‘Threatened to shoot you?’ ’Yes, sir, he threatened to shoot me.’  Mr. Lincoln looked at him, then at me; and stooping his tall, spare form toward the officer, said to him in a loud stage-whisper, easily heard for some yards around:  ’Well, if I were you, and he threatened to shoot, I would not trust him, for I believe he would do it.’  The officer turned about and disappeared, and the men laughed at him.  Soon the carriage drove on, and as we descended the hill I explained the facts to the President, who answered, ’Of course I didn’t know anything about it, but I thought you knew your own business best.’  I thanked him for his confidence, and assured him that what he had done would go far to enable me to maintain good discipline; and it did.”

The days following the Bull Run disaster were full of depression and discouragement, but Lincoln bore up bravely.  He began to feel the terrible realities of his position, and saw himself brought face to face with the most awful responsibilities that ever rested upon human shoulders.  A disrupted Union, the downfall of the great American Republic, so long predicted by envious critics of our institutions, seemed about to be accomplished.  At the best, the Union could be saved only by the shedding of seas of priceless blood and the expenditure of untold treasures.  And he must act, control, choose, and direct the measures of the Government and the movements of its vast armies.  And what if all should fail?  What if the resources of the Government should prove inadequate, and its enemies too powerful to be subdued by force?  No wonder he was appalled and well-nigh overwhelmed by the dark prospect before him.