A few weeks thereafter Dr. Allen visited his friend, the judge, in Washington, and they made a little pilgrimage to the New York Avenue Presbyterian church. In the Lincoln pew Dr. Allen sat and meditated, and on his way back he wrote the verses.
"I had seen the Lincoln statue many times," says Dr. Allen, "but, somehow, I could not get started on the poem I knew could be written around it." And Judge Stafford wrote to his friend in Newark: "I had seen the Lincoln pew a score of times without poetic result, yet you come on a one-day visit and carry away the inspiration needed."
LINCOLN"S CHURCH IN WASHINGTON
Within the historic church both eye and soul Perceived it. "Twas the pew where Lincoln sat-- The only Lincoln G.o.d hath given to men-- Olden among the modern seats of prayer, Dark like the "sixties, place and past akin.
All else has changed, but this remains the same, A sanctuary in a sanctuary.
Where Lincoln prayed! What pa.s.sion had his soul-- Mixt faith and anguish melting into prayer Upon the burning altar of G.o.d"s fane, A nation"s altar even as his own.
Where Lincoln prayed! Such worshipers as he Make thin ranks down the ages. Wouldst thou know His spirit suppliant? Then must thou feel War"s fiery baptism, taste hate"s bitter cup, Spend similar sweat of blood vicarious, And sound the cry, "If it be possible!"
From stricken heart in new Gethsemane.
Who saw him there are gone, as he is gone; The pew remains, with what G.o.d gave him there, And all the world through him. So let it be-- One of the people"s shrines.
[Ill.u.s.tration: LINCOLN IN 1858
From a photograph in possession of Mr. Stuart Brown of Springfield, Illinois]
John James Piatt was born in Indiana, March 1, 1835. His earliest schooling was received at Rising Sun, in Indiana. At the age of fourteen he was set to learn the printing business in the office of the _Ohio State Journal_ at Columbus, Ohio, for a brief period, and at the age of eighteen years first began to write verses. His poems were chiefly on themes connected with his native West.
SONNET IN 1862
Stern be the Pilot in the dreadful hour When a great nation, like a ship at sea With the wroth breakers whitening at her lee, Feels her last shudder if her helmsman cower; A G.o.dlike manhood be his mighty dower!
Such and so gifted, Lincoln, may"st thou be With thy high wisdom"s low simplicity And awful tenderness of voted power.
From our hot records then thy name shall stand On Time"s calm ledger out of pa.s.sionate days-- With the pure debt of grat.i.tude begun, And only paid in never-ending praise-- One of the many of a mighty land, Made by G.o.d"s providence the Anointed One.
[Ill.u.s.tration: PRESIDENT LINCOLN
[Signed: For Mrs. Lucy G. Speed, from whose pious hand I accepted the present of an Oxford Bible twenty years ago.
Washington, D. C. October 3, 1861
A. Lincoln ]]
Lincoln once said: "When any church will inscribe over its altar, as its sole qualification for membership, the Saviour"s condensed statement of the substance of both law and gospel, "Thou shalt love the Lord thy G.o.d with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor as thyself", that church will I join with all my heart and all my soul."
LINCOLN, SOLDIER OF CHRIST
_From Macmillan"s Magazine, England_
Lincoln! When men would name a man Just, unperturbed, magnanimous, Tried in the lowest seat of all, Tried in the chief seat of the house--
Lincoln! When men would name a man Who wrought the great work of his age, Who fought, and fought the n.o.blest fight, And marshalled it from stage to stage.
Victorious, out of dusk and dark, And into dawn and on till day, Most humble when the paeans rang, Least rigid when the enemy lay
Prostrated for his feet to tread-- This name of Lincoln will they name, A name revered, a name of scorn, Of scorn to sundry, not to fame.
Lincoln; the man who freed the slave; Lincoln, whom never self enticed; Slain Lincoln, worthy found to die A soldier of the captain Christ.
[Ill.u.s.tration: LINCOLN IN 1860
Photographed by Brady at the time of the "Cooper Inst.i.tute Speech,"
February, 1860]
[Ill.u.s.tration: PRESIDENT LINCOLN
Photograph by Gardner, Washington]
Rev. Hamilton Schuyler was born in Oswego, New York, 1862, and is a son of the late Anthony Schuyler, who was for many years rector of Grace Church, Orange, New Jersey. He belongs to the well-known family of that name, being seventh in descent from Philip Peterse Schuyler, founder of the family, who came to this country from Holland and settled in Albany in 1650. He studied at Oxford University, England, and the General Theological Seminary of New York. Has held positions in Calvary Church, New York; Trinity Church, Newport, Rhode Island, and was for several years dean of the Cathedral at Davenport, Iowa, under the late Bishop Perry. He began his rectorship at Trenton in February, 1900. Has written extensively for journals and periodicals.
Among the bound publications which bear his name as author are _A Fisher of Men_, a biography of the late Churchill Satterlee, priest and missionary, son of the first Bishop of Washington; _Studies in English Church History_; _The Intellectual Crisis Confronting Christianity_; and _A History of Trinity Church, Trenton_. In 1900 his poem, _The Incapable_, won a prize of two hundred dollars offered by the late Collis P. Huntington through the _New York Sun_, for the best poems ant.i.thetical to Edwin Markham"s _Man With the Hoe_. A volume of Mr. Schuyler"s verses, under the t.i.tle _Within the Cloister"s Shadow_, was published in 1914.
A CHARACTERIZATION OF LINCOLN
_From Lincoln Centenary Ode_
Tall, ungainly, gaunt of limb, Rudely Nature molded him.
Awkward form and homely face, Owing naught to outward grace; Yet, behind the rugged mien Were a mind and soul serene, And in deep-set eyes there shone Genius that was all his own.
Humor quaint with pathos blent To his speech attraction lent; Telling phrase and homely quip Falling lightly from his lip.
Eloquent of tongue, and clear, Logical, devoid of fear, Making plain whate"er was dense By the light of common sense.
Tender as the bravest be, Pitiful in high degree, Wrathful only where offence Led to grievous consequence; Hating sham and empty show; Chivalrous to beaten foe; Ever patient in his ways; Cheerful in the darkest days; Not a demi-G.o.d or saint Such as fancy loves to paint, But a truly human man Built on the heroic plan.