the foot of the stairs leading up to my studio. A gentleman at this moment attracted my attention, standing with his back towards me, looking at some pictures exposed in the window of the shop below. Detecting, as I thought, something familiar in his air and manner, I waited until he turned his face, and then found I was not mistaken; it was an old acquaintance who five years before lived near me in Brooklyn, engaged in a similar struggle for a livelihood with myself, though his profession was law instead of art.
We had both changed our residences and had not met for years. After a cordial greeting, he accepted my invitation to ascend to the studio. I had heard that he had been successful in some business ventures, but the matter made but little impression upon me, and had been forgotten. Suddenly there seemed to come into my mind the words: "This man has been sent to you." Full of the singular impression, I laid before him my conception. He heard me through, and then asked if I was sure of President Lincoln's consent and cooperation. I informed him of the pledge which had been given me. "Then," said he, "you shall paint the picture. Take plenty of time,—make it the great work of your life,—and draw upon me for whatever funds you will require to the end."[1]
- ↑ To Mr. Samuel Sinclair, of the New York Tribune, for the introduction to Mr. Lincoln, and to Frederick A. Lane, Esq., of New York, for the generous aid thus extended, I shall ever be indebted for the accomplishment of my work.
