“His mind was filled with gloomy forebodings and strong apprehensions of impending evil, mingled with extravagant visions of personal grandeur and power.  He never doubted for a moment that he was formed for some ‘great or miserable end.’  He talked about it frequently and sometimes calmly.  Mr. Herndon remembers many of these conversations in their office at Springfield and in their rides around the circuit.  Lincoln said the impression had grown in him all his life; but Mr. Herndon thinks it was about 1840 that it took the character of a ’religious conviction.’  He had then suffered much, and considering his opportunities he had achieved great things.  He was already a leader among men, and a most brilliant career had been promised him by the prophetic enthusiasm of many friends.  Thus encouraged and stimulated, and feeling himself growing gradually stronger and stronger in the estimation of ‘the plain people’ whose voice was more potent than all the Warwicks, his ambition painted the rainbow of glory in the sky, while his morbid melancholy supplied the clouds that were to overcast and obliterate it with the wrath and ruin of the tempest.  To him it was fate, and there was no escape or defense.  The presentiment never deserted him.  It was as clear, as perfect, as certain as any image conveyed by the senses.  He had now entertained it so long that it was as much a part of his nature as the consciousness of identity.  All doubts had faded away, and he submitted humbly to a power which he could neither comprehend nor resist.  He was to fall,—­fall from a lofty place and in the performance of a great work.”

On one occasion Lincoln visited Chicago as counsel in a case in the U.S.  District Court.  The Hon. N.B.  Judd, an intimate friend, was also engaged upon the case, and took Mr. Lincoln home with him as a guest.  The following account of this visit is given by Mrs. Judd in Oldroyd’s Memorial Album:  “Mr. Judd had invited Mr. Lincoln to spend the evening at our pleasant home on the shore of Lake Michigan.  After tea, and until quite late, we sat on the broad piazza, looking out upon as lovely a scene as that which has made the Bay of Naples so celebrated.  A number of vessels were availing themselves of a fine breeze to leave the harbor, and the lake was studded with many a white sail.  I remember that a flock of sea-gulls were flying along the beach, dipping their beaks and white-lined wings in the foam that capped the short waves as they fell upon the shore.  Whilst we sat there the great white moon appeared on the rim of the eastern horizon and slowly crept above the water, throwing a perfect flood of silver light upon the dancing waves.  The stars shone with the soft light of a midsummer night, and the breaking of the low waves upon the shore added the charm of pleasant sound to the beauty of the night.  Mr. Lincoln, whose home was far inland from the great lakes, seemed greatly impressed with the wondrous beauty of the scene, and carried