“As we entered the cars, he beckoned me to take a seat with him, and said, in a most agreeably frank way, Were you sincere in what you said about my speech just now?’

“ ‘I meant every word of it, Mr. Lincoln. Why, an old dyed-in-the-wool Democrat, who sat near me, applauded you repeatedly, and when rallied upon his conversion to sound principles, answered: “I don’t believe a word he says, but I can’t help clapping him, he’s so pat.” That I call the triumph of oratory,

Indeed, sir, I learned more of the art of public speaking last evening than I could from a whole course of lectures on Rhetoric.’

“ ‘Ah! that reminds me,’ said he, ‘of a most extraordinary circumstance which occurred in New Haven the other day. They told me that the Professor of Rhetoric in Yale College,—a very learned man, isn’t he?’

“ ‘Yes, sir, and a fine critic too.’

“ ‘Well, I suppose so; he ought to be, at any rate,—they told me that he came to hear me, and took notes of my speech, and gave a lecture on it to his class the next day; and, not satisfied with that, he followed me up to Meriden the next evening, and heard me again for the same purpose. Now, if this is so, it is to my mind very extraordinary. I should like very much to know what it was in my speech you thought so remarkable, and what you suppose interested my friend, the Professor, so much.’

“ ‘The clearness of your statements, Mr. Lincoln; the unanswerable style of your reasoning, and especially your illustrations, which were romance and pathos, and fun and logic, all welded together. That story about the snakes, for example, which set the hands and feet of your Democratic hearers in such vigorous motion, was at once queer and comical, and tragic and augumentative. It broke through all the barriers of a man’s previous opinions and prejudices at a crash, and blew up the very citadel of his false theories before he could know what had hurt him.’

“ ‘Can you remember any other illustrations,’ said he, ‘of this peculiarity of my style?’

“I gave him others of the same sort, occupying some half-hour in the critique, when he said: ‘I am much obliged to you for this. I have been wishing for a long time to find some one who would make this analysis for me. It throws light on a subject which has been dark to me. I hope you have not been too flattering in your estimate. Certainly, I have had a most wonderful success, for a man of my limited education.’

“ ‘That suggests, Mr. Lincoln, an inquiry which has several times been upon my lips during this conversation. I want very much to know how you got this unusual power of “putting things.” It must have been a matter of education. No man has it by nature alone. What has your education been?’

“ ‘Well, as to education, the newspapers are correct; I never went to school more than six months in my life. But, as you say, this must be a product of culture in some form. I have been putting the question you ask me to myself, while you have been talking. I can say this, that among my earliest recollections I remember how, when a mere child, I used to get irritated when anybody talked to me in a way I could not understand. I don’t think I ever got angry at anything else in my life. But that always disturbs my temper, and has ever since. I can remember going to my little bed-room, after hearing the neighbours talk of an evening with my father, and spending no small part of the night walking up and down, and trying to make out what was the exact meaning of some of their, to me, dark sayings. I could not sleep, though I often tried to, when I got on such a hunt after an idea, until I had caught it; and when I thought I had got it, I was not satisfied until I had repeated it over and over, until I had put it in language plain enough, as I thought, for any boy I knew to comprehend. This was a kind of passion with me, and it has stuck by me; for I am never easy now, when I am handling a thought, till I have bounded it North, and