hour, a day, a night like that can never again return. The President,
recovering himself, begins that very night--sternly, rapidly sets
about the task of reorganizing his forces, and placing himself in
positions for future and surer work. If there were nothing else of
Abraham Lincoln for history to stamp him with, it is enough to send
him with his wreath to the memory of all future time, that he endured
that hour, that day, bitterer than gall--indeed a crucifixion
day--that it did not conquer him--that he unflinchingly stemm'd it,
and resolv'd to lift himself and the Union out of it.

Then the great New York papers at once appear'd, (commencing that
evening, and following it up the next morning, and incessantly through
many days afterwards,) with leaders that rang out over the land with
the loudest, most reverberating ring of clearest bugles, full of
encouragement, hope, inspiration, unfaltering defiance; Those
magnificent editorials! they never flagg'd for a fortnight. The
"Herald" commenced them--I remember the articles well. The "Tribune"
was equally cogent and inspiriting--and the "Times," "Evening Post,"
and other principal papers, were not a whit behind. They came in good
time, for they were needed. For in the humiliation of Bull Run, the
popular feeling north, from its extreme of superciliousness, recoil'd
to the depth of gloom and apprehension.

(Of all the days of the war, there are two especially I can never
forget. Those were the day following the news, in New York and
Brooklyn, of that first Bull Run defeat, and the day of Abraham
Lincoln's death. I was home in Brooklyn on both occasions. The day
of the murder we heard the news very early in the morning. Mother
prepared breakfast--and other meals afterward--as usual; but not a
mouthful was eaten all day by either of us. We each drank half a cup