At Springfield Lincoln was in his element. Soon he was elected to the State Legislature, and became one of the leading personalities in the social and political life of the town. In the glare of a life of splendid activity the shadows of the past began to fade. At last he was almost happy, but suddenly a new and unexpected influence was brought to bear upon him.

The effect of Miss Mary Todd's arrival at Springfield was quite sensational. She took the town by storm, and laid as captives at her feet all who were youthful and eligible. She was a fascinating girl, twenty-one years of age, and, in addition to being beautiful, she was a brilliant conversationalist and extremely witty. Moreover, if such a circumstance is possible or permissible in a republican country, she was of aristocratic birth; in her veins there flowed the blood of a distinguished ancestry - illustrious soldiers and astute politicians.

Needless to say, among the first to fall a victim to her charms was Abraham Lincoln. Miss Todd, moreover, was not averse to his attentions; she was ambitious, and in him she saw a man destined for a great career. Ironical fate, however, could not have found a woman less suited for the position of wife to the great Lincoln.

Lincoln, the morose lawyer, and Mary Todd, the gay but clever social butterfly, were representatives of two directly antagonistic types. Accordingly, the courtship advanced but slowly. 'mary invariably led the conversation," declared her sister. "Mr. Lincoln would sit by and listen. He scarcely said a word, but gazed on her as if irresistibly drawn towards her by some superior and unseen power."

Eventually, however, they became engaged. This, however, Miss Todd did not regard as a reason strong enough to deter her from receiving attentions from other men, notable among whom Was Stephen Douglas, the man who afterwards became one of the most powerful of Lincoln's political rivals.

Gradually Abraham became jealous; Douglas undoubtedly interested Mary greatly. He was a self-confident, masterful man, and in drawing-rooms, where Lincoln always was ill at ease, he was at home and happy. At length Lincoln could bear the strain no longer; he went to Speed and asked him to deliver a letter which he had written to Mary, telling her that he had come to the conclusion that his love for her was not strong enough to justify him in marrying.

"I reminded him," records Speed, "that the moment he placed the letter in Miss Todd's hand she would have the advantage over him. " Words are forgotten," I said, "misunderstood, unnoticed in private con-ve sation, but once you put your words in writing, they stand a living and eternal monument against you. ... Go and see Mary yourself; tell her, if you do not love her, the facts."

Lincoln acted, therefore, on his friend's advice, and set out for Miss Todd's house immediately. Speed awaited his return. An hour passed, two hours, but still there was no sign of Abraham. Speed became anxious. At last, however, his friend returned. But he had not broken off the engagement. Moved by the girl's tears, he had repented of his decision.

"To tell the truth, Speed," he said, "it was too much for me. ... I caught her in my arms and kissed her."

He saw now, however, that he could not reverse this decision. "It's done," he said, "and I shall abide by it." And abide by it he did until the wedding day dawned.

Preparations for the ceremony were made on a very elaborate scale, but at last everything was ready, and on January 1st, 1841, the bride, clad in her wedding garments, sat with the guests waiting for the bridegroom.

But where was the groom? An hour passed, and still he had not appeared. Messengers were sent throughout the town, but Lincoln could not be found. Indeed, he remained hidden until the following morning, and then Speed found him, "listless, gloomy, miserable, and desperate."

Terrified lest his friend should commit suicide, Speed took him to his own mother's house. There - for Mrs. Speed was a cheerful woman - Lincoln soon was restored to health and a more peaceful frame of mind. Then he returned to Springfield and, under the stress of his legal work, the memory of Mary Todd faded gradually from his mind.

All might have been well, therefore, had not a well-intentioned woman conceived the fatal idea of bringing them together again. The result was a renewal of the engagement, and Lincoln astonished all his friends one morning by announcing that he was going to marry Mary Todd that very day.

Why did he marry her? There can be but one answer; he married her hoping that thereby he would retrieve his honour and his reputation. He married her, moreover, prepared for, if not conscious of, the likely consequence. But the depths of the tragedy, the bitterness of the life before him at that time, he could not have calculated fully.

Why, however, did Mary marry Lincoln ? Again one can but conjecture. Perhaps she did it to avenge herself. This seems to be more than probable. Perhaps at one time she loved this strange, morose, gaunt politician, but he killed that love; he made her look ridiculous in the eyes of the world. . Love will forgive most offences; this one, however, it will never pardon.

There is not space here to deal with Lincoln's married life, nor, indeed, is it necessary to do so, for with his marriage ends the story of his romance. In his wedded life can be found neither love nor poetry. Henceforth the man who ruled a nation, the man who feared no man, and guided his country through one of the most ghastly of the civil strifes that ever the historian has recorded, was at the mercy of his wife; he was her slave; she ruled him absolutely. He acquired fame and power; he gave fame and power to her and position also, but himself he reaped only a harvest of bitterness.

Never, however, has a man been more enduring; he suffered in silence and with patience, but suffered always. Once, Mrs. Lincoln ordered a man to make some small alteration in her garden. Since, however, the work necessitated the cutting down of a tree, the man first consulted Mr. Lincoln. "What did Mrs. Lincoln say?" inquired the latter. "She consented to have it taken away." "Then," exclaimed Mr. Lincoln, "cut it down to the roots!"