XIV. THE STRANGE NEW MAN

There is a period of sixteen months--from February, 1861, to a day in
June, 1862,--when Lincoln is the most singular, the most problematic of
statesmen. Out of this period he issues with apparent abruptness,
the final Lincoln, with a place among the few consummate masters of
state-craft. During the sixteen months, his genius comes and goes. His
confidence, whether in himself or in others, is an uncertain quantity.
At times he is bold, even rash; at others, irresolute. The constant
factor in his mood all this while is his amazing humility. He seems to
have forgotten his own existence. As a person with likes and dislikes,
with personal hopes and fears, he has vanished. He is but an afflicted
and perplexed mind, struggling desperately to save his country. A
selfless man, he may be truly called through months of torment which
made him over from a theoretical to a practical statesman. He entered
this period a literary man who had been elevated almost by accident to
the position of a leader in politics. After many blunders, after doubt,
hesitation and pain, he came forth from this stern ordeal a powerful man
of action.

The impression which he made on the country at the opening of this
period was unfortunate. The very power that had hitherto been the making
of him--the literary power, revealing to men in wonderfully convincing
form the ideas which they felt within them but could not utter--this had
deserted him. Explain the psychology of it any way you will, there is
the fact! The speeches Lincoln made on the way to Washington during the
latter part of February were appallingly unlike himself. His mind had
suddenly fallen dumb. He had nothing to say. The gloom, the desolation