Los Angeles herald. [microfilm reel], February 14, 1909, Page 12, Image 60

About Los Angeles herald. [microfilm reel] (Los Angeles [Calif.]) 1900-1911

Image provided by: University of California, Riverside; Riverside, CA

                
12
LINCOLN and the LOG CABIN
The Little Cabin Where Abraham Lincoln Was Borx.
lAM asked to write and draw of Lincoln. Still, I likely know less of Lin
coln than anybody in America. I have started to read of Lincoln sev
eral times, but I have never got past his picture. It holds one so in-
tently that it is by all odds the hardest face I ever saw to quit looking at.
Next to Lincoln is the cabin in which he was born. What a pity this cabin
couldn't turn to stone that it could last as long as the world lasts, just as an
example to boys. Look at Lincoln's face for a solid minute, then look at the
cabin, and you will see they look alike. In every line of this man's sad face
you see the pathos 1 of that log cabin. It seemed to stamp him. His wit, wis
dom, grief, love and manners were all of the log cabin. How beautiful and
restful it is when we are tired or discouraged to look at this log cabin. From
within its rough walls has come more than from the combined palaces of the
whole world. Why shouldn't it stimulate us?
There should be in America some rule that in every boy's room should
hang the picture of Lincoln alid this cabin. I am going to get one framed for
my boy's room, for him to ponder over when the days are seeming long. Who
knows what an inspiration it might be to boys if in every boy's room hung a
picture of Lincoln and his cabin 1? Let's adopt this plan. Couldn't Congress
paint such a picture and sell it at cost to the boys of the country ?
AS I start to write of Lincoln, I don't know what to say. I have never read
**■ of him; just stared open-mouthed at his pictures, and at that one of the
cabin. Just think of this face. It's the homeliest face in the world, and yet
it's the handsomest face in our world. Its beauty and sadness lasts longer in
your memory than any face. And when we hear the word "Honor," we in
stinctively see Lincoln's face. We have but one thing: in connection with his
immortal features that seems hard to do, and that is to think of him as ever
really laughing. You couldn't imagine him looking in a mirror unless- to pick
a twig or a branch of a tree from his wrinkles or beard. Likely he never
thought of himself other than that how sorry he was. How much better that
would make our world, if its big men never thought of themselves other than
how sorry they were that they had done this or that. lam wondering if his
influence on the American people won't last longer than any man's. Of course,
there can never be another Lincoln. Conditions have changed, log cabins are
no longer built as was his. But some day a man will appear that will remind
us much of Lincoln, and that man will be one who has absorbed Lincoln's prin
ciples. He may not be like the other men of that time, and may be ridiculed,
but if he is much like Lincoln that won't hurt him.
\ INCOLN'S face shows that his great power was omitting the useless
things. His sentences were short and to the point. His speeches were
the same. Lincoln's eyes seemed to have lived before they looked tired and
sleepy, as if when young he drove them over and over the splinters and bark of
his father's cabin. His eyes, however, told everything, and the first thing they
told you was that at all times, under all circumstances, they would tell you
just the plain truth in shorter words than you ever heard it.
They were dry eyes that seemed to have shed all their tears on some great
questions. They were the eyes of a man forced to see a great tragedy, that
other eyes in centuries to come would be brighter.
Some months ago I went into the studio of the Sculptor Borglum, and he
was working at a huge piece of marble. Before he spoke I saw from this
great block of white stone a sad shadow east by a cheek bone. I saw that
it was a huge face of Lincoln, the Lincoln of smooth face. The sculptor
rested, and we talked on that sadness of Lincoln, which is the most pathetic
sadness in the world of faces that we have ever known.
i Strangely, though, with this sad expression, there is also absolute fearless
ness. Every feature of Lincoln seemed to be in harmony. His boots look just
as much of the picture as his beard. His long and pliable hands seemed to be
especially made to wash such a face; even his underlip, besides matching his
LOS ANGELES HERALD SUNDAY MAGAZINE
The Influence of Lincoln's Rude Birthplace Upon
the Great Statesman's Character
HOMER DAVENPORT
upper lip, teams up with his ears, so that the Lincoln harmony
balances all over his face and forehead. Oh, for another like him!
1 find that we as a nation are craving for a Lincoln so hard that
if we see a statesman that is even homely our hearts quicken. We
hope he will be a Lincoln. But all we see is that there are so
many different kinds of homely features, and that only one kind
was used for the man we continually have in mind.
[" INCOLN had greater advantages than the boys have now. One
■^ of his advantages was that lie was compelled to work, and in
doing- he got at the bottom of things, and once at the bottom,
you always know which way to look for the top. He had the ad
vantage of being very poor, very homely, and being employed at
work that is hard to cheat in if you wanted to. Splitting rails is
excellent work for young men that want to think as they work.
There is no dust, and it is fine exercise, which expands the lungs, and your
arms are soon trained so that they, with the axe, split the tree while the head
may be working with many distant problems.
f IXCOLN was made to grow, and he grew. He wept and walked the floor
■*"*' all night once in Washington, and his family—even the servants —
beard him groan as his long hands wiped the tears from his wrinkled, homely,
handsome face.
It was a night of horror on a battlefield he knew of. Likely it was a
longer night than any other man ever knew in Washington or any other place
that Lincoln experienced as he wept and walked moaning through the halls
of the White House. It wasn't his mistake; it was a duty, and that duty left
its mark on the immortal face of Lincoln.
I ':
Davenport's Impression of Lincoln's Face.
FEBRUARY 14, 1909