doubtfully that he was theirs, the Catholics hoped somewhat
doubtfully that he would be theirs, and Henry himself turned aside
remonstrance, advice and curiosity alike with a jest or a proverb (if
a little *high,* he liked them none the worse), joking continually as
his manner was. We have seen Mr. Lincoln contemptuously
compared to Sancho Panza by persons incapable of appreciating
one of the deepest pieces of wisdom in the profoundest romance
ever written; namely, that, while Don Quixote was incomparable in
theoretic and ideal statesmanship, Sancho, with his stock of
proverbs, the ready money of human experience, made the best
possible practical governor. Henry IV. was as full of wise saws and
modern instances as Mr. Lincoln, but beneath all this was the
thoughtful, practical, humane, and thoroughly earnest man, around
whom the fragments of France were to gather themselves till she
took her place again as a planet of the first magnitude in the
European system. In one respect Mr. Lincoln was more fortunate
than Henry. However some may think him wanting in zeal, the
most fanatical can find no taint of apostasy in any measure of his,
nor can the most bitter charge him with being influenced by motives
of personal interest. The leading distinction between the policies of
the two is one of circumstances. Henry went over to the nation;
Mr. Lincoln has steadily drawn the nation over to him. One left a
united France; the other, we hope and believe, will leave a reunited
America. We leave our readers to trace the further points of
difference and resemblance for themselves, merely suggesting a
general similarity which has often occurred to us. One only point of
melancholy interest we will allow ourselves to touch upon. That
Mr. Lincoln is not handsome nor elegant, we learn from certain
English tourists who would consider similar revelations in regard to
Queen Victoria as thoroughly American in the want of