For Mr. Lincoln
it was a day of unusual and quiet happiness. His son Robert had
returned from the field with General Grant, and the President
spent an hour with the young captain in delighted conversation
over the campaign. He denied himself generally to visitors,
admitting only a few friends. In the afternoon he went for a long
drive with Mrs. Lincoln. His mood, as it had been all day, was
singularly happy and tender. He talked much of the past and
future. After four years of trouble and tumult he looked forward
to four years of quiet and normal work; after that he expected to
go back again to Illinois and practice law. He was never more
simple or more gentle than on this day of triumph. His heart
overflowed with sentiments of gratitude to Heaven, which took the
shape, usual to generous natures, of love and kindness to all
men.
From the very beginning there had been threats to kill him. He
was constantly receiving letters of warning from zealous or
nervous friends. The War Department inquired into these when
there seemed to be ground for doing so, but always without
result. Warnings that appeared most definite proved on
examination too vague and confused for further attention. The
President knew that he was in some danger. Madmen frequently made
their way to the very door of the Executive Office; sometimes
into Mr. Lincoln's presence; but he himself had so sane a mind,
and a heart so kindly even to his enemies, that it was hard for
him to believe in political hatred deadly enough to lead to
murder.
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