talents. He had no doubt that he would make his mark if he could have the opportunity; so he embraced a favourable time to advise him about studying law.

“Have you ever thought of studying law?” Mr. Stuart inquired, in a delicate manner.

“Never, though the subject has been named to me by others,” replied Lincoln.

“And why have you not entertained the suggestion favourably?”

“Because I have not talents enough to warrant such a decision; and then I have no means, even if I had the talents.”

“Perhaps you have too exalted views of the abilities required. Let us see. Is there anything in the law so intricate as to demand superior talents? Does it require more ability than medicine or theology? No, I think you will say. And then, if it did, perhaps the future will reveal that you possess the talents for it.”

“But then, a poor fellow like me, with no friends to aid, can hardly think of going through a long course of study.”

“It is not very long after all, and there need not be much expense about it, except for your board and clothes.”

“How can that be?”

“You can read law by yourself, working at your business of surveyor enough to board and clothe yourself, and in less than three years be admitted to the bar.”

“But books are expensive, especially law-books.”

“Very true; but that difficulty is easily remedied. You shall be welcome to my library. Come as often as you please, and carry away as many books as you please, and keep them as long as you please.”

“You are very generous, indeed. I could never repay you for such generosity.”

“I don’t ask any pay, my dear sir,” responded Mr. Stuart, shaking his sides with laughter. “And if I did, it would be pay enough to see you pleading at the bar.”

“I am almost frightened at the thought of appearing there,” added Lincoln.

“You’d soon get over your fright, I reckon, and bless your stars that you followed the advice of John T. Stuart.”

“I daresay.”

“Only think of it,” continued Mr. Stuart; “a brighter prospect is before you than hundreds of distinguished men enjoyed in early life, on account of the advantages offered to you. You are a ‘Clay man,’ and you now have the offer of better opportunities to rise than he had when he left his mother’s log cabin. All the schooling he ever enjoyed was in his boyhood, when he went to school to Peter Deacon, in a log school-house without a window or floor. All the learning he acquired after that was by industry and perseverance, improving every leisure moment, and extending his studies far into the night.”

“I don’t see but he had as good advantages in his early life as I did,” interrupted Lincoln.

“That is so; and there is much in your history that reminds me of his. I suppose that is what suggested the comparison to me. You have a right to be a ‘Clay man.’ One would scarcely have thought, when he was seen riding his mother’s old horse, without a saddle, and with a rope for a bridle, on his way to