The story of Lincoln’s life for the next five years is the story of the Civil War.  How Lincoln grew and broadened in those fateful years, how he won men by his deep humanity, his complete understanding, his ready sympathy; how, once having undertaken the task of conquering rebellion, he never faltered nor turned back despite the awful sacrifices which the conflict demanded; all this has passed into the commonplaces of history.  No man ever had a harder task, and no other man could have accomplished it so well.

[Illustration:  Lincoln]

The emancipation of the slaves, which has loomed so large in history, was in reality, merely an incident, a war measure, taken to weaken the enemy and justifiable, perhaps, only on that ground; the preliminary proclamation, indeed, proposed to liberate the slaves only in such states as were in rebellion on the following first of January.  Nor did emancipation create any great popular enthusiasm.  The congressional elections which followed it showed a great reaction against anti-slavery.  The Democrats carried Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Illinois.  For a time the administration was fighting for its life, and won by an alarmingly small margin.

Before the year had elapsed, however, there was a great reversal in public opinion, and at the succeeding election, Lincoln received 212 out of 233 electoral votes.  The end of the Confederacy was by this time in sight.  A month after his second inauguration, Richmond fell, and five days later, Lee surrendered his army to General Grant.  Lincoln at once paid a visit to Richmond and then returned to Washington for the last act of the drama.

The fourteenth of April was Good Friday, and the President arranged to take a small party to Ford’s theatre to witness a performance of a farce comedy called “Our American Cousin.”  The President entered his box about nine o’clock and was given a tumultuous reception.  Then the play went forward quietly, until suddenly the audience was startled by a pistol shot, followed by a woman’s scream.  At the same instant, a man was seen to leap from the President’s box to the stage.  Pausing only to wave a dagger which he carried in his hand and to shout, “Sic semper tyrannis!” the man disappeared behind the scenes.  Amid the confusion, no efficient pursuit was made.  The President had been shot through the head, the bullet passing through the brain.  Unconsciousness, of course, came instantly, and death followed in a few hours.

Eleven days later, the murderer, an actor by the name of John Wilkes Booth, was surrounded in a barn where he had taken refuge; he refused to come out, and the barn was set on fire.  Soon afterwards, the assassin was brought forth with a bullet at the base of his brain, whether fired by himself or one of the besieging soldiers was never certainly known.