appointed him Indian agent.

At this point may be mentioned an occurrence which took place a year or
two later. It was his first romance of love, his engagement to a
beautiful girl, Ann Rutledge, and his bereavement. Her untimely death
nearly unsettled his mind. He was afflicted with melancholy to such a
degree that his friends dared not leave him alone. For years afterwards
the thought of her would shake his whole frame with emotion, and he
would sit with his face buried in his hands while the tears trickled
through. A friend once begged him to try to forget his sorrow. "I
cannot," he said; "the thought of the rain and snow on her grave fills
me with indescribable grief."

Somehow, we know not how, the poem "Oh, why should the spirit of mortal
be proud?" was in his mind connected with Ann Rutledge. Possibly it may
have been a favorite with her. There was certainly some association,
and through his whole life he was fond of it and often repeated it. Nor
did he forget her. It was late in life that he said: "I really and
truly loved the girl and think often of her now." Then, after a pause,
"And I have loved the name of Rutledge to this day."

This bereavement took much from Lincoln. Did it give him nothing?
Patience, earnestness, tenderness, sympathy--these are sometimes the
gifts which are sent by the messenger Sorrow. We are justified in
believing that this sad event was one of the means of ripening the
character of this great man, and that to it was due a measure of his
usefulness in his mature years.