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THE MISSION OF THE PATRIOTIC SOCIETIES

UR world from time immemorial has been full of what are called popular errors." To me it seems in our own time one of the most glaring of these is the oft repeated assertions that the effect of all this genealogical study is to foster and build up "Mutual Admiration Societies," because of the richness of ancestral blood. No greater libel was ever uttered than that. The pride of family is not the effect, it is rather the cause of all this wonderful contribution to the historic lore of our country.

Man in all his work needs some hidden spring to move him, and family pride is one of the most potent. From the time when the Pilgrim Fathers landed on Plymouth Rock in 1620, to the year 1876— our Centennial year-it lay tightly coiled, but in that year commenced to slowly unwind itself. The work of the Fathers of 1776 was specially emphasized that year for the first time as a whole, and Revolutionary descendants began to wonder what individual part their ancestors had in the glorious work of 1776. They eagerly scanned the neglected record of the family Bible and the inscriptions upon the tombstones in the old country graveyards; packets of family letters, yellowed with age, were opened and contents carefully noted; they interviewed and took the statements of aged people to whom had come first-hand authentic incidents of history from the old revolutionary heroes themselves in many cases.

If you read carefully the histories of Hildreth, or Bancroft or Jared Sparks or John Marshall, or even Washington Irving, you must be struck with the absence of the human touch. That human touch was what was given to our country's history by these contributions of family literature; to give it life and heart and good, rich, warm, red blood. The starting of Patriotic Societies was the easy and logical sequel—all inspired by this pride of family ancestry. Then followed the organization of the Sons and Daughters of the American Revolution, the Sons and Daughters of the Revolution, the Society of Colonial -Read before Patriotic Societies of Southern Cal. Convention at Los Angeles, April 19th,

1910.

Wars and the Colonial Dames, the Sons and Daughters of 1812—and others I have not time to mention-but must not omit to mention the Society of the Cincinnati, organized in 1783. They all have been most loyal to one lofty ideal-the cultivation of the national spirit.

Sixty and seventy years ago that was a dead thing in the heart of the American nation, brought out and warmed up on some training day or Fourth of July-and then forgotten till the next anniversary day. But our national spirit as fostered by our patriotic societies is no longer a dead thing-it has found beautiful expression in the National Flag Day-in the flag-drill of our public schools-in the protection of the Flag from the blighting desecrating touch of commercialism—in particular the work of the Sons of the American Revolution in printing leaflets, in every known language and dialect, of instructions to emigrants coming to our shores, how to become good American citizens; and actually placing these leaflets in their hands when they are far out at sea and in that way protecting them as far as possible from the fiendish influences and associations of the anarchist-in no better way than this can the National spirit be exalted! Educated citizenship is the palladium of our National liberty.

The invasion and conquest of Palestine by the Roman Emperor Vespasian in the first century was one of the most absolute and degrading conquests that man ever made over man. The necks of the Jewish people were literally pressed by the heel of the proud conqueror. After it was all over, so Dr. Craig Mitchell once wrote, one of the venerable Jewish Rabbis approached the haughty Vespasian one day, and most humbly kneeling, begged a boon: "Name it," said the proud Roman. "Give me the schools of Jubne and its schoolmasters," said the Rabbi. Rabbi. "It is granted you," said Vespasian-thinking lightly of the request. In fifty-five years from that time those ancient schools of the Jewish nation had so fostered the Hebrew national spirit that they rose in their might and threw off the hated foreign yoke and became again a free and independent nation.

In these days of commercialism, when graft and greed are seeking to instil their deadly poison into the heart of the Republic; when the dollar is worshipped above the man; when the purity of the ballot

box is assailed; it is the glorious mission of the Patriotic Societies to keep alive the National spirit, and to emphasize it really and truly as a wise schoolmaster to lead the American nation into paths of civic righteousness!

Fellow Citizens, I have the honor to propose this sentiment in closing The Patriotic Societies of America-they are supplying the unwritten history of our country-they are stimulating our Pride of Country to make us exclaim with Daniel Webster-" Thank God that I too am an American!"

DENVER.

CLARKSON N. GUYER.

SOME IMPRESSIONS OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN IN 1856.

P

ROBABLY more has been written about Abraham Lincoln than of any other American citizen, and it may seem presumptuous on my part to add anything to what has been said. I am afraid I shall say little that is new, but I cannot deny myself the opportunity of paying this small tribute to his memory.

A little more than fifty years ago the signboards at every turn of the roads in the East seemed to read, "Go West, young man." California gold fields were attracting thousands. Western farms were sought by many interested in agriculture. The forests of Michigan and Wisconsin resounded with the axes of the lumbermen from Maine. Young men engaged in mercantile pursuits were told that their business chances were much better in a country where cities were born every week. But beyond all these interests and allurements was that tide of immigration flowing toward Kansas,-devoted spirits who were determined that there should not be another slave state added to the Union.

I became infected with the Western fever, and landed, as it happened, in Springfield, Illinois,-the home of Abraham Lincoln,—then as far west as Dakota is to-day. (Some of my personal experiences there would make as good reading as Winston Churchill's novel The Crisis," and be as entertaining.) Among other things I was told (because of the Anti-Slavery sentiment of New England) that it would be just as well not to say that I was from Massachusetts, and especially from Boston. The southern half of Illinois was settled by many Tennesseeans and Kentuckians who were prejudiced against this section of the country.

But I am to speak of Abraham Lincoln. That I knew him in 1856-7 has been more than a pleasant recollection with me for over half a century. I was not old enough to be called his friend, but I love to feel that I had more than a passing acquaintance with him during those two years.

-Address before the Brookline, Mass., Historical Society.

The first time I saw him he was sitting on the grass in front of his modest home; three or four small children were climbing over his chair and running about him, which would not have been encouraged, perhaps, by a person less fond of little children. I speak of this to show his loving nature. He was paying but little attention to their antics, however. There was a far-away look in his eyes as if his thoughts were elsewhere. Perhaps even then he had visions of what might be possible and probable, when the conflict of argument over the great question of that day should be followed by the clash of arms-for there were many who predicted, five years before the Civil War, that there would be bloodshed before the issue was settled.

Mr. Lincoln's figure, tall and ungainly, was dressed in a readymade suit of dark cloth, all too short in the arms and legs. He wore a round plush cap without any visor, and his necktie of black silk was carelessly tied. His personal appearance would not impress a boy from an eastern city, who was familiar with the figures of Charles Sumner, Edward Everett and other prominent men of New England, that he was a great man. I was pleased with his speech, his kindly smile; he impressed me with his sincerity; but that his was the master mind that should be so influential in public affairs in the years to follow never entered my mind any more than that later he was to be the savior of his country. Neither was he aware of his natural gifts, or conscious that he possessed those qualities that made him a statesman outranking his contemporaries.

I took him to be a fairly good lawyer with a small practice, and a strong liking for politics. He was extremely modest; absolutely fair and thoroughly honest and unselfish; willing at all times to waive his claims for political place and position for the benefit of others and the cause, his great desire, to use his own words, being "to do what was right and make himself useful."

At times he was very sober, but often, and even on serious matters, his opinion was expressed in a lighter vein. He was practical in his advice, but he had moods of deep sentiment. Pathos and humor are blood relations. Where will you find a finer or more beautiful expression of this characteristic than in the following lines: