Qass. 
 Book. 
 
 ,> ^ ^^ 
 
THE DIVINELY PREPARED RULER, 
 
 THE FIT END OF TREASON, 
 
 TWO DISCOURSES DELIVKHKD AT 
 
 THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, 
 
 SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS,MAY 7, 1865, 
 
 ON THE 
 
 SABBATH FOLLOWING- THE BURIAL OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN," 
 BY REV. HENRY A. NELSON, 
 
 Pastou First Presb'x. Church, St. Louis. 
 
THE DIVINELY PREPARED RULER, 
 
 AN D 
 
 THE FIT END OF TREASON, 
 
 TWO DISCOURSES 
 
 DELIVERED AT 
 
 THE FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, 
 
 SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS, 
 
 BY INVITATION OF THE SESSION, 
 
 SABBATH FOLLOWING THE BURIAL OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN, 
 
 MAY 7, 1865, 
 
 BY REV. HENRY A. NELSON, 
 
 Pastor First Presb'n. Church, St. Louis, 
 
 SPRINGFIELD, ILLS.: 
 
 ITEAM PRESS OF BAKER & PHILLIPS, 
 
 1865. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Springfield, Ills», May 7th, 1865. 
 Rev. H. a. Nelson, D.D., 
 
 *S'^. Louis, Mo. 
 Dear Sir: Having had the pleasure of listening to your sermons de- 
 livered yesterday in the First Presbyterian Church of this city, and being 
 deeply impressed with the pertinency and truthfulness of the views therein 
 contained; believing, also, that the dissemination of those views at this time 
 cannot fail to be useful, we respectfully request a copy of each for publication. 
 
 Yours, truly, 
 
 R. OFFICER, 
 JOHN WILLIA3IS, 
 JACOB BUNN, 
 S. H. MELVIN, 
 J. W. LANE, 
 B. F. FOX, 
 Ct. JAYNE, 
 FRANK W. TRACY, 
 W. H. HAYDEN, 
 H. B. BUCK. 
 
 St. Louis, May 9, 1865. 
 Gentlemen : 
 
 I deemed it a precious privilege, on the Sabbath after we laid the body 
 of our murdered President in the tomb, to preach to a large concourse of 
 his former neighbors, in the church in which he used to worship. I felt 
 the responsibility to be very great, and am much comforted by your assu- 
 rance that it was discharged acceptably. 
 
 The views which I expressed, and of which you speak approvingly, are 
 
[iv] 
 
 essentially the same which are uttered from thousands of pulpits, and plat- 
 forms, and presses all over our land, and all round the world. I can, how- 
 ever, imagine that discourses privileged to be delivered, at that plm:e and 
 time, may have an interest which they owe to that circumstance, quite in- 
 dependent of their own merit. Just as the pictures of Mr. Lincoln's 
 modest home in your city, and of the horse that drew his family carriage, 
 or even a sprig or leaf plucked near his tomb must now be precious to all 
 who can possess them, so I can imagine that many may like to read dis- 
 courses occasioned by his death, and delivered so near his tomb, so soon 
 after it received his remains. If this should give them a currency which 
 they would not otherwise have ; if thus they can (as you suggest) be the 
 means of disseminating truthful and pertinent views on the subjects of 
 which they treat, I ought not to withhold them from circulation. 
 
 Gentletnen : You and the people of Springfield, whom you represent, 
 have a most enviable privilege. You are the favored guardians of a tomb 
 which will be visited by tens of thousands of your countrymen, and by the 
 lovers of virtue and liberty from all other lands. You are entrusted by 
 your country with the keeping, for her and for mankind, of the most re- 
 vered form that has walked the earth in this century. I thank you, gen- 
 tlemen, for the honor you do me, in giving my humble advocacy of 
 Lincoln's principles this grateful association with Lincoln's tomb. 
 
 HENRY A. NELSON. 
 To R. Officer, John Williams, Jacob Bunn, and othersx 
 
THE DIVINELY PREPARED RULER. 
 
 Ps. 78: 70 — 72 — "He chose David also his servant, and took him from :he 
 sheep-folds; from following the ewes great with young he brought him to feed 
 Jacob his people, and Israel his inheritance. 
 
 So he fed them according to the integrity of his heart, and guided them by the 
 skillfulness of his hands." 
 
 This text brings prominently before ns that remarkable 
 divine election and providence whereby David was brought 
 from the humble circumstances and occupations of a peas- 
 ant, to the high position and responsibilities of a monarch. 
 It also suggests a connection between the pursuits of his 
 early life and the noble character exemplified in his event- 
 ful and glorious reign. 
 
 The appropriateness of these topics to this occasion is 
 manifest. We mourn for one whom God chose to rule a 
 great people during a most wonderful, most critical, most 
 glorious period of their history, and whom He trained for 
 that great work in an early life, not unlike that which 
 formed and developed the mind and body of king David. 
 
 When David is first introduced, in the scripture history, 
 (1 Sam. xvi,) we behold him a bright and handsome boy^ 
 "ruddy and of a beautiful countenance," according to the 
 simple and graphic Bible phrase. He comes in from the 
 pastures, where he has been keeping the flock of his father, 
 
[6] 
 
 into the presence of the "man of God," who has been sent 
 to Bethlehem, to anoint one from among the sons of Jesse, 
 to be the reprobate Saul's successor to the throne of Israel. 
 Samuel's prophetic insight recognizes, in the ruddy strip- 
 ling, the elect of God to that high office, and signifies that 
 divine designation by anointing him with oil. God accom- 
 panies the external symbol, which He has ordered, with 
 such bestowment of His own Spirit as is needful to rouse, 
 to quicken, and thenceforth to direct the before latent roy- 
 alty of young David's soul. From that time, as we follow 
 his steps in the thrilling record, along the adventurous and 
 eventful track of his life, we are continually sensible of the 
 presence of truest nobility. All that can be expressed by 
 the epithets heroic, 'princely, royal, is habitually exempli- 
 fied. The few instances of unworthy, unmanly, even crim- 
 inal behavior, (which are by no means to be disguised or 
 extenuated,) are felt to be exceptional, in strange and vio- 
 lent contrast with the prevailing character, which still, 
 notwithstanding those dreadful exceptions, stands forth one 
 of the noblest in human history. 
 
 His administration of the government, after he came to 
 the throne, was so wise, so able, so faithful, so conscientious- 
 ly conformed to the divinely-given constitution of govern- 
 ment, and withal so full of evidence of his honest and 
 affectionate regard for the welfare of his people, that inspi- 
 ration has called him "a man after God's own heart," and 
 has regarded it as not dishonorable even to Messiah, to 
 make "Son of David" one of His most prominent desig- 
 nations. 
 
 The evident excellencies of David's administration could 
 hardly be more expressively set forth in so brief a summa- 
 
[7] 
 
 ry, than they are in the text: "So he fed them according 
 to the integrity of his heart; and guided them by the skill- 
 fulness of his hands." 
 
 The pregnant significance of the word "fed" arises from 
 its allusion to the humble labor of his early life, the care 
 of sheep, so graphically described in the preceding verses, 
 in which the writer does not fail to call our attention, by 
 the most signal and touching instance of it, to that consid- 
 erate and tender carefulness which so gracefully adorns the 
 rugged strength of the manliest character, and which is 
 so needful alike in the humble guardian of a flock and the 
 supreme ruler of a people ; the influence of which descends 
 so sweetly and so benignly from the lofty summit of power 
 into the low vales of society; floats over the land in all its 
 breezes; tempers (without abating) the valor of its men; 
 and covers with beneficent protection its women, its chil- 
 dren, and its homes. 
 
 The Psalmist emphasizes, in his description of David's 
 reign, the "integrity of his heart" and the " skillfulness 
 of his hands" — not undervaluing (you see) that tact, that 
 fertility of resources, that executive ability, that political 
 wisdom, for which a ruler has so much occasion; yet exalt- 
 ing to its due pre-eminence "integrity of heart," upright, 
 uncorrupt, honest purpose. 
 
 If President lincoln had lived to fulfill his second term 
 of administration as worthily as he did the first; if then 
 retiring from that high seat and from all public employ- 
 ment, he had lived to a good old age among you, hi§ neigh- 
 bors and friends, and had here peacefully died, there is no 
 need of doubting, no propriety in seeming to doubt, that 
 those pages of history on which his name would have been 
 
[8] 
 
 written, would not only have contained the record of one 
 of the most eventful periods, but the biography of one of 
 the most blameless and one of the most illustrious of civil 
 rulers; one to whom God had given a " skillfulness of 
 hands" adequate to the necessities of a government strug- 
 gling through extremest difficulties and dangers, and an 
 "integrity of heart" which secured, by simply deserving it, 
 that implicit confidence of a great nation, which, when 
 given by a deceived people to the selfishly ambitious, fur- 
 nishes the opportunity for establishing thrones of despotism 
 amid the ruins of popular liberty. 
 
 The mournful premature ending of his noble career, 
 the sudden and cruel snatching him from us by murderous 
 violence, at the nieridian of his official life, while it has filled 
 the hearts of the people with unprecedented sorrow, does 
 i}ot diniinish, (iiaust it not deepen?) the reverent interest 
 with which we meditate upon that character and that ca- 
 reer. Has not God, in so fearfully smiting us, made all our 
 hearts so tender, for this very purpose, that they may the 
 more effectually receive the impressions which such medita- 
 tion should make? "A glorious, beneficent gift of God has 
 been withdrawn," said a venerable Christian orator,* to 
 whom I listened on the day of President Lincoln's funeral 
 obsequies at the National Capital, when all our hearts 
 swelled and O-ched in the freshness of patriotic agony. It 
 was not the language of extravagant eulogy, but the sim- 
 ple and sincere expression of candid Christian wisdom. 
 
 In this holy house, in which the honored dead used to 
 worship, on the first Sabbath since we laid his reverend 
 form in the grave, before " God who only is great," let our 
 
 ^R§v. T. M. Post, D.D, 
 
[9] 
 
 words and our thought be sober and temperate, even accor- 
 ding to the good example so constantly set us by him of 
 whom we are all thinking. Resting, according to the com- 
 mandment, even from the labors of love and of filial grief, 
 which, for more than half a month, have now occupied the 
 minds and hands of the nation, let us devoutly meditate 
 on that "glorious, benificent gift of God that has been with- 
 drawn," endeavoring to fix in our minds the good lessons 
 which we ought to learn, and so to secure the good and holy 
 uses which God has kindly intended. 
 
 I. Let us reflect upon this, tltat God, with merciful i^ur- 
 pose toward our country, cliose from the humhJe raul's of her 
 people, tlw man wlio shoidd he Iter ruler and savior, in the 
 most periious period of her Itistory. 
 
 I would not need to recount minutely the incidents of 
 Mr. Lincoln's childhood and youth, even if I were prepared 
 to do so, as I am not. I am speaking to that portion of his 
 countrymen who least need such information. Sufficient for 
 my purpose is the general fact, known to all men, that his 
 early life was spent in rural situations and rustic employments? 
 as much so as that of the son of Jesse. His social connec- 
 tions were as far from whatever would be deemed aristo- 
 cratic, and his employments as remote from the splendors 
 and the corruptions of cities. Li both these men, as also 
 quite as eminently in Washington, we have illustration of 
 the great advantages of country life, for the rearing and 
 education of useful and heroic men. In thus speaking, I 
 do not disparage cities, nor deny their peculiar opportuni- 
 ties for developing character. I am happy to be increas- 
 ingly convinced tluit the advantages ibr education and for 
 9 
 
[10] 
 
 happy and useful life, are not exclusively possessed by city 
 or by country. 
 
 It is appropriate now, however, to note the value of 
 country life and experience in the formation of character ; 
 and I think it evident that, in the case of the three historic 
 characters just mentioned, the world is much indebted to 
 the rustic experiences of their childhood and youth. Their 
 rustic employments and sports were calculated to develop 
 and strengthen their bodily powers, and to give them the 
 physical hardiness and endurance for which they had so 
 much need in subsequent life. This was not merely the 
 power of enduring muscular exertion. For this the late 
 President had not much occasion. He was not called, like 
 Washington and David, to do military service in the field, 
 and to undergo the personal physical privations and toils of 
 warfare. But he was subjected to a continuous strain of 
 mental exertion, and care, and solicitude, which tries the 
 bodily powers even more severely than bodily toil and ex- 
 posure. Probably no other man in our country has worked 
 so hard and so steadily, during the last four years, as Presi- 
 dent Lincoln — no other brain has been subjected to so se- 
 vere a pressure — no other human system has had its source 
 of vitality, and its entire vital organization burthened with 
 such a weight. We cannot well overrate the value to us, 
 of that full and hearty respiration, that vigorous and even 
 circulation, those steady nerves, those lithe, tough muscles, 
 that hardy, robust frame, which had been secured, in so 
 great degree, by the wholesome habits of his early life, and 
 by those labors of which our western prairies, and forests, 
 and rivers will for ages preserve the legends. 
 
 In this connection it should be noticed, that while Mr. 
 
[ 11 ] 
 
 Lincoln came forth from among the humble and obscure, he 
 did not come from among the degraded or vicious. Such 
 constitutions as his are not the offspring of intemperance 
 and debauchery, nor are tliey reared in squalid, and disor- 
 derly, and unhappy homes. Lowliness, obscurity, even 
 poverty may consist with the strictest virtue and truest re- 
 spectability. Preeminently is this so in our favored coun- 
 try; but it has been true, and illustrated by signal instan- 
 ces, in all countries and in all ages. A large proportion of 
 the world's greatest men, the men whose lives have had 
 the most decisive effects upon the world's history, rose from 
 obscurity; had their childhood and youth amid humble 
 scenes and surroundings ; had their bodil}^ and mental ener- 
 gies developed by vigorous labor, alternating with whole- 
 some active sports, and free from the enervating influences of 
 luxury. I have alluded to Washington, our great national 
 example of heroic virtue. He was not indeed a child of 
 poverty ; and he was closely connected with what there 
 was of aristocracy in those primitive days of our republic. 
 But those were days, and that was an aristocracy, into 
 which little of luxury entered. The habits and disciplijie 
 and employments of Washington's early life were rugged 
 and invigorating. The wealth and distinction of hif^ kin- 
 dred, and which he inherited, seem only to haye added grace 
 and dignity to the strength which frugal, and industrious, 
 and temperate living gave him. And, notwithstanding his 
 wealth and distinguished connections, his early orphanage, 
 his limited literary advantages, his humble profession, and 
 his manifest rising by his pergonal exertions and merits 
 alone, constitute him as good an example as any of eleva- 
 tion from the ordinary ranks to the highest distinction, 
 
[12] 
 
 Let it be attentively noted by the young, and by those 
 whose greatest responsibility pertains to the rearing of the 
 young, that God is apt to select His most honored human 
 instruments from among the industrial classes — those who 
 earn their living by labor; and that when one is chosen 
 from among the wealthy, we find him to have been identi- 
 fied with those classes by voluntary industry, and frugality, 
 and wise abstinence from luxury, showing that, whatever 
 wealth he may have, he is not dependent upon it for ability 
 to live well and happily ; and that whatever position he 
 may have by inheritance, is no higher than he might have 
 attained by the fair exercise of his own powers. 
 
 President Lincoln's hardy and robust bodily frame was 
 not the only good product of those early habits to which I 
 have referred. His cheerful and hopeful temper have been 
 and will continue to be celebrated. This doubtless had a 
 close connection with his fine physical health. It large- 
 ly resulted from those habits and exercises of his coun- 
 try life, which so admirably invigorated his body; and it is 
 an occasion to us of gratitude to God, being one of the most 
 important qualities of that " glorious and benificent gift" to 
 our country and to mankind. I surely believe that his 
 characteristic cheerfulness, his unfailing good humor, his 
 hearty relish for the amusing, his ability to toss ofi" from 
 his aching shoulders the heavy burdens of care, responsi- 
 bility and sorrow, and regale himself with hearty, bo3dsh 
 mirth, (always taking up again those burdens so quickly 
 and bearing them so bravely and patiently), I surely be- 
 lieve that this was worth to the nation all that it was worth 
 to preserve those noble powers, and prevent thein from 
 being long ago made to succumb and collapse. 
 
[13] 
 
 Let the fastidious criticise his want of what they call 
 dignity. Let the austere condemn what they call his vul- 
 garity. Let them criticise the turhidness of the Mississippi. 
 Let it be conceded (for I care little to investigate, whether 
 it were actually so, ) that his enjoyment of the ludicrous 
 did sometimes carry him beyond the limits of perfect taste 
 or perfect delicacy. We are not proposing to represent him 
 as faultless. Let us thank God that the fault most pro- 
 claimed by his detractors, while it was possible for any to 
 be such, was a fault so comparatively harmless, so consist- 
 ent Av ith the sterling honesty, the unsullied virtue, the ex- 
 emplary temperance, the unquestioned purit} , and the 
 abundant kindness of heart, which all acknowledge. And 
 now, when the voice of detraction is forever silent, let us 
 acknowledge as a good gift of God, and a natural result of 
 the wholesome habits of his early life, that ''oil of glad- 
 ness" which so kindly anointed our great defender, and 
 spared his precious powers from the friction which else 
 would have worn them swiftly out, making them creak in 
 the harsh tones of tyrannic cruelty, or break into the dis- 
 cordant din of wild and ruinous phrensy. 
 
 II. Let us also reflect upon this: Tliat God did mani- 
 fest/ (/ by His own Spirit, vouchsafe to tliat cliosen 7nan, a si^e- 
 cial divine pi'eparatimi for his great work. 
 
 That there is such a work of God's Spirit upon men cho- 
 sen to eminent positions, distinct from that work on whicli 
 the personal hope of eternal life depends, is clearly taught 
 in scripture. Our text and its historical connection lead us 
 to notice this in the case of David. When Samuel had an- 
 ointed him in his father's house, "in the midst of his, 
 
[14] 
 
 brethren," (as we read in 1 Sam. xvi: 13,) "the spirit of 
 the Lord came upon David from that day forward." A 
 similar statement is made concerning Saul, after his an- 
 ointing, of which we have the account in the tenth chap- 
 ter of the first book of Samuel. The sequel of his history 
 does not permit us to believe that the Holy Spirit's effectual 
 work of salvation was wrought upon Saul; and, although 
 happily the contrary is true of David, I think we are war- 
 ranted in regarding the declarations to which I have refer- 
 red as denoting a work of special preparation for their 
 public and official work, vouchsafed to them by the Spirit 
 of God. 
 
 Surely, my brethren and my countrymen, we have abun- 
 dant evidence of the same mercy having been shown to our 
 late President arid to us. How inevitably do your minds 
 revert to that scene which probably many of you witnessed, 
 at yonder railroad depot, in February, 1861, when the Pre- 
 sident-elect turned from the platform of the car which was 
 to bear him hence to the national Capital, to say his simple 
 farewell to you, his neighbors — a scene of most republican 
 simplicity, yet none the less of historic grandeur, and of re- 
 ligious sublimity. You doubtless remember his touching 
 allusions to all his life and experience among you — to his 
 joys and successes, and his tender sorrows, which you had 
 shared in neighborly sympathy. You remember the deep 
 solemnity with which he adverted to the vast responsibili- 
 ties he was about to assume, and the ^clear statement of his 
 own deep conviction that his success depended absolutely 
 on God's gracious help and blessing. You remember — yea, 
 all the Christian world remembers — the simplicity and the 
 unquestionable sincerity in which he closed that parting 
 
[15] 
 
 address with the request that you would pray for him. He 
 spoke those simple words to you, his Springfield neighbors; 
 but they were soon on the tremulous lips, under the mois- 
 tening eyes, and in the thankful hearts of millions. From 
 that time until the news of his murder was flashed abroad 
 by the lightning, and wailed through all the air, and dark- 
 ened all the land, it is probable that more prayer had con- 
 tinually been offered up to God for him, than for any one 
 man who ever lived. In all sanctuaries in which loyal 
 Americans worshiped; at all firesides where loyal house- 
 holds knelt; in all tents where devout soldiers have met for 
 prayer; in all hospitals, where suffering patriots have lan- 
 guished, and Christian women have prosecuted their angelic 
 ministration; at every picket station, where a Christian sol- 
 dier has paced alone under the silent stars; in every cham- 
 ber where a Christian woman has knelt in prayful remem- 
 brance of son, or husband, or brother, or lover; in myriads 
 of cabins, where Christian slaves have waited for the com- 
 ing of Him who proclaimeth "liberty to the captive;" be- 
 yond the seas, wherever our missionaries have gone to 
 heathen or Mohammedan lands, or among the votaries of 
 corrupt and paganized Christianity, and have gathered con- 
 verts to simple and pure religion; wherever in Europe our 
 cause has found Cobdens and Gasparins to make it under- 
 stood, and honest lovers of popular liberty secured by con- 
 stitutional government, to sympathize with our struggle; in 
 the Pacific islands; in Southern and Western Africa; in the 
 ports of China and Japan; in the great cities of India; 
 amid the mountains of Persia; from the banks of the Tigris 
 and Euphrates; in many provinces of Turkey; in Greece; 
 in Italy, amid the Alpine heights; in every land where the 
 
[16] 
 
 Gospel of Christ has made men free, or wakened within 
 them prayerful and prophetic longings for freedom; — from all 
 such lands, and from all such hearts, the prayer has gone 
 up to God, which was asked for, in such simplicity, from that 
 railroad platform in your city; and all those countless voi- 
 ces have linked with their prayers the name of Abraham 
 Lincoln. 
 
 How clearly and how graciously has God answered those 
 prayers ! What a spirit of wisdom, and of patience, and 
 of power did the Lord vouchsafe to him for whom they 
 were offered! We make no claim for him of exemption 
 from errors. He distinctly disclaimed all such preposterous 
 pretensions. But, looking upon his administration, now 
 closed, as a whole, I do not fear that any Christian man 
 will doubt that he was signally guided and helped by God. 
 That some of the most conspicuous and important acts of 
 his administration were not contemplated when he took the 
 reins of government, is certain. That he was led to them 
 reluctantly by the providence of God shaping and moving 
 the current of events on which he was borne, we have his 
 frank avowal. That God accompanied the external indica- 
 tions and pressure of His providence with internal illumi- 
 nation and impulsion of His Spirit, I should deem it un- 
 scriptural to doubt. More sanguine and more imj)etuous 
 men earlier urged some of the measures which he after- 
 wards adopted; and if any think that this was by reason 
 of greater sagacity and quicker insight than were given to the 
 President, we will not dispute about that. Others may 
 think that God mercifully saved us from the ruinous effects 
 of rashness, by having formed the President's mind to 
 careful and slow movement. Perhaps both classes will 
 
[17] 
 
 agree, that God's influence brought him to the adoption of 
 those measures, not too soon, and not too late, to save the 
 country — and in saving, to purify it from its greatest stain, 
 and to deliver it from its greatest curse. 
 
 II. Let us, then, reflect upon '•'the integrity of heart'''' 
 and '^ skill f Illness of hands'' with which our departed shep- 
 herd '\fed'" and '■'guided" us. 
 
 I desire to view these, and to speak of them, in Chris- 
 tian soberness, and in such temperate style as Mr. Lin- 
 coln's discourses and writings so well exemplify. 
 
 The great eulogist of Washington, himself one of our 
 most famous men, and who so lately ended his earthly life, 
 in that patriotic discourse so many times delivered, alluded 
 to the remark which had been made "that Washington was 
 not a man of genius." Everett's repl}^ was, that if one 
 who accomplished what Washington did, (recapitulating 
 his most illustrious achievements in a truly magnificent 
 period which I cannot recite,) — if such an one were not a 
 man of "genius," then "genius" is not an "indispensable' 
 possession. 
 
 Can it be doubted that the most intelligent students of 
 our country's history will form the same estimate of Abra- 
 ham Lincoln ? Doubtless more brilliant men than he have 
 served the nation under his orders. Minds of more rapid 
 movement, perhaps of greater comprehension, certainly of 
 more varied and extensive learning, have aided his by their 
 counsel. There have been emergencies in which the na- 
 tion has been impatient of his slow deliberation; have 
 murmured at his moderation; has been in agony of fear 
 lest he should let the golden opportunity for its salvation 
 
[18] 
 
 pass irrecoverably by. But when he has made up his 
 ruind, when he has been ready to speak, how rarely has he 
 failed to utter that which has commended itself to the best 
 judgment of the people? When he has "set down his 
 foot," how surely has it marked the ground on which the 
 nation would thenceforth stand, the line from which the 
 nation would never go back ! And which of all her heroes 
 or sages, not even excepting that first and greatest, has this 
 nation more deliberately and more fully trusted? The am- 
 bitious may covet admiration — ^may l^e willing to be feared, 
 if they can be applauded — but the highest earthly reward 
 of true patriotism is a great peoj^le's confidence. This is 
 indeed the best testimony to his '"integrity of heart;" but 
 not to that alone : a people whose political existence is in 
 mortal peril do not entrust their supreme magistracy to one 
 who is merely honest. They must believe that he is also 
 toise. And, in such deliberate judgment, they are not cipt 
 to be mistaken. 
 
 Doubtless that, in respect to which President Lincoln's 
 wisdom and integrity were most severely tried, and 
 have been and will l)e most debated, is his treatment of 
 the institution of slavery. He is accused, on the one hand, 
 of having unconstitutionally directed the vast military 
 power of the country against an institution of several 
 States, which, under the constitution of the United States, 
 they had a right to maintain. On the other hand, he is 
 accused of having been slow and reluctant to embrace a 
 glorious providential opportunity to rid his country of so 
 great an evil, and to deliver millions of enslaved people 
 and their offspring from cruel bondage. His own frank and 
 lucid statements, and his most noted official acts, explain- 
 
[19] 
 
 ing and illustrating each other, show the following things, viz: 
 
 1. Mr. Lincoln conscientiously regarded all chattel slave- 
 ry as wrong, and sincerely desired that every human being 
 might be free, 
 
 2. He did not regard the office of President of the Uni- 
 ted States as directly investing him with any authority to 
 remedy that wrong, by setting free any human being who 
 was held in slavery. As President of the United States 
 in Washington, he did not understand himself as liaving any 
 more right to abolish slavery in any State in which it ex- 
 isted, than he had had as simple Abraham Lincoln, Attor- 
 ney and Counsellor at Law, in Springfield, Illinois ; and he 
 regarded his oath of office, as well as the general principles 
 of morality, as forbidding him to usurp the smallest degree 
 of unconstitutional power, for the sake of fulfilling his phi- 
 lanthropic desires. 
 
 3. He regarded his oath of office, and the fundamental 
 principles of right which that oath sanctions, as binding 
 him to defend and save the government which he was ad- 
 ministering, at whatever cost to its assailants; and as he 
 was ready, so far as they made it necessary, to destroy their 
 lives by musketry and cannon, and to desolate their lands 
 by war, in order to defeat their treasonable conspiracy and 
 open rebellion; so, for the same purpose, it being justified 
 by the same necessity, he was ready to emancipate their 
 slaves : and when by the dreadful persistency of rebellion, 
 it had been demonstrated that the continued existence of 
 slavery is incompatible with the safety of the Union, he 
 was ready to recommend to Congress and to the people thai 
 change in the Constitutioji, by which it is to be abolished 
 and forever forbidden in all the land. 
 
[20] 
 
 It were an idle speculation, to inquire whether possibly 
 some other mind might have seen more quickly, and rea- 
 soned more acutely, and so have acted more promptly upon 
 slavery's forfeiture of its constitutional guaranties, or wheth- 
 er one of such more rapid apprehension might with corres- 
 pondingly greater rapidity have led the nation to the position 
 which it did attain under President Lincoln's careful — if 
 you please, even repressive — guidance. That were an idle 
 speculation now, not only because it cannot now l^e applied 
 for practical good, but because it could be only speculation, 
 based upon hypothesis, not, like the historical judgment 
 which is to be, uj)on facts. We cannot surely know wheth- 
 er all those ]iyp>otheses could have been made facts; nor 
 whether the grand result, sought by more raj^id methods, 
 could have been reached at all. 
 
 Behold what is reached — the Union saved ! the mightiest 
 ' rebellion ever made against human government, utterly sub- 
 dued ! the arrogant slave-power which defied the world, hum- 
 bled, not only, but crushed ! four millions of bondmen libe- 
 rated, and liberty assured to their posterity ! the great 
 Republic of the world redeemed from its great reproach, 
 and shame, and consuming disease, and fitted to be the great 
 (^exemplar and defender of regulated liberty for all mankind ! 
 These are the results which now, with humble yet firm as- 
 surance, we may claim that God has vouchsafed to us by that 
 administration of our government to which He called, and 
 for which He fitted Abraham Lincoln. 
 
 Standing near his fresh grave, preparing to erect a fit 
 monument over it, could we wish ioY facts to be commemo- 
 rated on that monument, better adapted to win from the 
 millions who will visit it, a favorable judgment of "the in- 
 
[21] 
 
 tegrity of his heart, and the skillfulness of his hands ?" 
 Having distinctly alleged that a ruler may be the subject of 
 a special work of God's Spirit, fitting him for his office, Avitli- 
 out experiencing that renewing work of the same divine 
 Spirit on which personal salvation depends, and having 
 claimed the former for our departed President, I cannot 
 leave the theme without alluding to the question, full of so 
 tender interest, whether he had that still more important 
 experience which was just as necessary for him, in order to 
 his salvation, as for any "publican or sinner." I under- 
 stand that his name had never been enrolled on your list of 
 communicants, and that he had never here been known as a 
 professor of religion. But that he was an honest l^eliever 
 in not only theoretical, but experimental Christian ty, is gen- 
 erally understood; and, without making more or less of the 
 explicit professions of recent conversion which have been 
 publicly reported of him, 1 may say that during the last 
 two or three years, if not ever since his elevation to office, 
 his published language and his public deportment have in- 
 creasingly, and very decidedly impressed us as altogether 
 becoming to a Christian. We believe that spiritual Chris- 
 tianity was an experience, a life, with him. So is our deep 
 sorrow assuaged, not only by our thankful memories of his 
 noble and useful career, and the great blessings to our coun- 
 try and to mankind, of which God made him the instrument 
 but by the precious hope that he was a child of God, and 
 an heir, through grace in Christ Jesus, of the bliss of Heaven, 
 
THE FIT END OF TREASON. 
 
 2 Sam. xviii: 32. — "The enemies of my lord the king, and all that rise against 
 thee to do thee hurt, be as that young man is." 
 
 You recognize these as the words of Ciishi, a courier from 
 that battle-field, on which Joab commanded the loyal forces 
 of Israel, and on which the traitor Absalom was slain, 
 Cushi has no farther place in the inspired record, than this 
 brief account of his bearing to king David, from his chief 
 officer in the field, tidings of the utter defeat of the rebellion, 
 and the fit end of its gifted and unprincipled leader. 
 
 I ask you to notice two or three things, in this man who 
 flits so swiftly across the historic scene, remaining only a 
 moment in sight, yet in that moment revealing perhaps as 
 much of his personal character, as would a swift runner, in 
 dashing before you of his graceful figure and agile limbs. 
 
 Notice his fine application of what had been at stake in 
 the conflict between Joab and Absalom, and of the value 
 of the result which had been achieved; notice his hearty 
 and thorough loyalty; his sensibility in respect to the be- 
 reaved father; and the exceeding delicacy with which he 
 made his communication, combining therein the admirable 
 expression of his humane sympathy and of his steadfast 
 loyalty. 
 
[23] 
 
 Bringing his tidings of the rout and dispersion of the in- 
 surgent forces, he finds that as soon as the king's sohcitude 
 for his kingdom is relieved, the father's anxiety for his son 
 breaks forth in the eager question, "Is the young man Ab- 
 salom safe !" With self-control which is helped by his deep' 
 respect and sympathy, and with adroitness such as only 
 fine sensibility gives, he avoids a direct answer, and shapes 
 the form of his reply so as, if possible, to call up in David's 
 mind, thoughts and emotions befitting the patriot and the 
 king, and by which the agonizing grief of the father shall 
 be held in al^eyance. Without harshly asserting it, he re- 
 minds the Iving that Absalom has sunk the character of son 
 in that of reljel and enemy; that he has endangered, not 
 merely his father's person, but that civil authority of which 
 that person is the " anointed" depository, and which was 
 divinely given to protect and bless a great nation; and he 
 intimates that, defeated in his infamous scheme by the val- 
 or and conduct of Joab and the loyal forces under him, 
 the rebel has come to a fit end, an end fit for any who thus 
 rise against a lawful and good government. 
 
 The text is an admirable example of that rhetorical 
 force which, being unstudied, and resulting spontaneously 
 from the appropriate state of a susceptible mind, utters in 
 a few fit and capacious words, sentiments of far-reaching 
 application, and of mighty power. 
 
 Although Cushi so properly refrained from telling king 
 David what the fit fate of Absalom was, we have it graph- 
 ically described in the context. His forces being utterly 
 defeated in the battle, Absalom himself, mounted on a mule, 
 probably fleeing for life, is most ignominiously caught by 
 the boughs of an oak, entangling themselves in that abun- 
 
[24] 
 
 dant hair, in which he so foppishly gloried, and the animal 
 escaping from beneath him, he dangles, helpless, in the air. 
 This being reported to Joab, the sturdy warrior soon dis- 
 patches him, and wisely orders the slain carcass lo be igno- 
 miniously buried, and a huge heap of stones to be piled 
 upon it. In that miserable grave was buried, not only Ab- 
 salom's body, but the traitor power which he had directed. 
 This being done so vigorously by the military power under 
 the rough but sagacious Joab, saved David from the fearful 
 conflict between royal duty and paternal affection, and 
 adverted from the nation the peril which might thence have 
 arisen. 
 
 Thoughts of the analogy between that rebellion which 
 ended in the death of Absalom and of that which collapsed 
 in the surrender of Lee, cannot to-day be new thoughts to 
 you. All Bi1)le-readers must have observed this analogy 
 very frequently, during the progress of our war. The 
 causelessness, the ingratitude, the falsehood^ with which 
 this rebellion was initiated, have reminded us of those of its 
 ancient type ; Ave have seen it progressing in similar perfidy 
 and cruelty ; and we have steadily expected for it a like ig- 
 nominious end. Now, when the end has come, and we are 
 witnessing its fit closing phenomena, I think that some ref- 
 erence to the analogy may help the meditations by which 
 we try to secure to our minds the lessons which we ought to 
 learn, and the influences which we need to feel, to fit us 
 for our remaining duties. For this purpose, no servile at- 
 tempt to trace the analogy through all possible, and to force 
 it into impossible particularity will be made. I only bring 
 the analogy to your recollection, in a general way, and ask 
 you, under the influence of it, so far as it spontaneously af- 
 
[25] 
 
 fects you, to consider the application to our own present 
 case of whatever applicable truth there is in those words 
 of Cushi, which I have taken for ni}^ text. 
 
 In doin^ this, it is fair to observe that we can claim the 
 infallibility of inspiration only for the record of Cushi's 
 words, not directly for the sentiment expressed in them. 
 We have no scriptural claim that he was an inspired man. 
 The scriptural truth of what he said must be judged by its 
 correspondence with the general tenor of the Bible, and the 
 specific instructions given in other parts of it. I choose 
 these words of Cushi, for my text, because they seem to 
 me to be a good expression of truth which pervades the 
 Bible; which is inwrought into the whole texture of its 
 morality and its theology; and which has a most impor- 
 tant bearing upon the most practical questions with which 
 we now have to do. I would candidly leave all who hear 
 me to verify whatever I may say, by their own study of 
 the Bible, being quite sensible that, within the limits of 
 this discourse, I cannot expound, nor even cite all the 
 scripture which needs to be studied to this end. I must, 
 however, at this point, observe that I am not unmindful 
 of the impression on many minds, that the Christian pulpit 
 should hold forth none but the mild and winning aspects 
 of Bible-truth ; that it should utter only messages of mercy ; 
 that it properly has no ministry of terror and of wrath. I 
 have not, however, so learned the Gospel ; have not so read 
 the Bible. My Bible has both Testaments in it; and I 
 yield not a moment to the assumption that the Old Testa- 
 ment is superceded by the New. The New Testament is a 
 divine comnaentary upon the Old; the Old Testament is 
 
 fully developed in the New. The Levitical ceremonial of 
 —4 
 
[26] 
 
 the Old Testament has indeed given place to that scriptu- 
 ral worship which it symbolized, and which the New Tes- 
 tament more clearly fulfills; but the essential morality and 
 the essential theology of the Old and New Testaments are 
 one and the same. Again, the most terrific revelations of 
 the divine wrath are made in the New Testament, in words 
 which fell from the gracious lips of our Redeemer; and no 
 Old Testament writer has more forcibly exhibited "the ter- 
 ror of the Lord," than the most voluminous writer of the 
 New Testament. 
 
 Still further, the most particular instructions of the New 
 Testament concerning civil government are given by Paul, 
 who puts '^the sivai^d" into the ruler's hand; declares that 
 he bears it "'not ifi vain' — not as a mere unmeaning orna- 
 ment, but to glitter with a keen and threatening edge ; and 
 he solemnly entitles him "the minister of God," "a reven- 
 ger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil." 
 
 That view of civil government which makes it a mere 
 system of "moral suasion," and which proposes to accom- 
 plish its ends by conciliation alone, discarding coercion, and 
 disclaiming all terror of penalties, is not the New Testament 
 view. The civil ruler of the New Testament is armed 
 with the sword. 
 
 I have thus stated to you, my friends, very briefly, the 
 general views which appear to me, not only to justify, but 
 to require the Christian pulpit to set forth clearly, with no 
 uncertain sound, the religious obligations of this nation, in 
 respect to the rebellion which is just now breaking down; 
 in respect to the atrocities which have so fully revealed its 
 enormous wickedness; in respect to the men upon whose 
 souls is the guilt of it; and in respect to that system of 
 
[27] 
 
 slavery from which it derived its life and its malignity. 
 The Fit End of Treason is, then, the theme upon which 
 I address you. On Thursday last, we closed in yonder 
 cemetery, a funeral service of fifteen days' continuance. A 
 funeral procession which had solemnly moved from the na- 
 tional capital, by a route of some 1500 miles, through many 
 of the States, pausing at many of the chief cities, and all 
 the way attended by the reverent, tearful salutations of the 
 thronging people, then and there reached its destination. 
 We laid in that sepulchre that form on which it was truly 
 observed that more weeping eyes had looked than probably 
 upon any human form ever extended in death before. 
 Why was it? WavS it that Abraham Lincoln was absolute- 
 ly the greatest and best man who ever lived? Probably 
 none of us are prepared to affirm quite so much; and if 
 any were — even if this were unquestionably true — we 
 should not in this alone have the full explanation of what 
 Ave have witnessed and experienced. Our mourning has 
 regard to his official and representative character. We 
 mourn not merely, not mainly, for the man, but for the Pres- 
 ident — not merely for the kind and just, the good and great 
 man, but for the worthy, the elect, the consecrated ruler. 
 He was to us ''the Lord's anointed." His sudden death 
 was the sudden demolition of the precious casket in which 
 all the majesty and all the sacredness of supreme magistra- 
 cy were enshrined. He had not only died, but had been 
 murdered — cruelly, treacherously, basely murdered. Our 
 horror of that murder was not merely for it as the murder 
 of a fellow-man ; we knew that the blow was struck at him 
 in his official and representative capacity. The murder 
 meant the ruler, not the man. The murderer would far 
 
[28] 
 
 more gladly have made the nation his victim, would far 
 more gladly have destroyed the government of which Mr. 
 Lincoln was the head. That murder did thus concen- 
 trate in itself and did thus fitly represent the baseness, the 
 treachery, the malignity, the desperateness, the murderous 
 malice of that rebellion by whose ideas it Avas inspired, in 
 behalf of which it was plotted, and in the interest of which 
 it was accomplished. / 
 
 That miserable stage-player,* accustomed to act tragic 
 scenes, morbidly brooding over those dark plots and des- 
 perate actions which form so large a part of the material 
 of his trade, aspiring to the fame of pre-eminence in crime, 
 fooled probably by dreams suggested by a name of historic 
 and tragic eminence in his family, heartily sympathizing 
 with the great conspiracy against the noble government, 
 whose protection he still accepted and enjoyed, accom- 
 plished the premeditated murder successfully. He fled 
 from the scene of it, and for twelve days eluded the aven- 
 gers of blood — twelve days of bodily torture, ffom that 
 bruised limb which the finger of divine Providence so sea- 
 sonably touched, and just enough disabled — twelve days, 
 no doubt, of mental misery far more severe. Then over- 
 taken, discovered in ignominious concealment, summoned 
 to surrender himself to justice, but refusing, knowing too 
 well what justice was, burned out as a ferocious beast 
 might be, shot in his movement to escape, by the fiiithfill 
 
 *I cannot but think that Booth was a fit instrument for the assassination of the 
 President, and trained in a fit school ; for although some good men do strangely 
 consent to seek relaxation in the theatre, and although I do not question what is 
 alleged of the good character of Edwin Booth, and of some other actors, who 
 seem to be regarded as exceptiona, I am sure that no other profession is so well 
 adapted to produce just such a character as J. Wilkes Booth, or to qualify him 
 to relish and to plan, and to perpetrate just such a crime. 
 
[29] 
 
 soldier, but whose bullet, God, in marvelous exactness 
 of retribution, guided to his brain, the wretched mur- 
 derer met the death he so much merited, and missed 
 the gratification which, I have no doubt, he would have 
 experienced, in being the principal figure in another 
 tragic scene, swelling agjiin in theatric pomp before the 
 court which would have sentenced him to the gallows. A 
 wise and vigorous administration takes care that he shall 
 have no grave on which either the wicked sympathy of 
 treason or the weakness of natural affection, (which the 
 nation pities but must not gratify,) nor yet the morbid silli- 
 ness of sentimentality can ever shed its tears. The faith- 
 ful vigilance of our rulers has caused the arrest of several 
 other persons accused or suspected of complicity with this 
 dreadful crime. We must not forget that due vigilance re- 
 quires the arrest of all to whom any reasonable suspicion 
 attaches, and therefore, is likely to occasion the arrest of 
 numbers who will not be proved guilty — probably of some 
 who are, and will be found entirely innocent. Let any 
 such bear the hardship patiently, and let us he ready to 
 show them all proper sympathy. But if any are indeed 
 guilty, and God shall, in His providence, enable our govern- 
 ment to make their guilt appear, let them share the fate of 
 him in whose crime they have participated. 
 
 On the very d^y on which we followed the body of our 
 lamented President to its honored burial, we read the proc- 
 lamation of his successor, announcing the possession by the 
 government of evidence that justifies the charge of com- 
 plicity in this crime against Jefferson Davis and five others, 
 some of whom have held high places in the government 
 against which they have been in rebellion. The President 
 
[ 30 ] 
 
 also offers large rewards for their arrest, in order to their 
 arraignment for trial. K he who has been the chosen head 
 of the rebel power, to crush which has cost the nation so 
 much, is guilty of this murder, and shall be brought into 
 the power of the government, that guilt being made to ap- 
 pear, I presume that no voice will be raised to plead for him 
 against the ignominious fate to which he will doubtless then 
 be doomed. But suppose that he shall not be proved to 
 have been the employer or instigator of the assassin, nor to 
 have been privy to his crime, nor to have approved it — 
 what then ? Of what do we and all mankind already know 
 Jefferson Davis to be guilty, beyond all need of proof, and 
 all possibility of denial ? Is it not exactly the same offense 
 for which Absalom died, and by which his name is black- 
 ened with peculiar infamy? Davis has been far more suc- 
 cessful than Absalom. Wehad no Joab ready, in the be- 
 ginning, to direct the martial movements which would 
 bring upon the conspiracy so swift defeat. He to whom we 
 looked for this, who had so long and so prosperously led 
 the national armies, had become an old man, feeble and 
 broken, and in the very hour of her supremest need and dan- 
 ger, the country found herself called to gently and rever- 
 ently provide for her aged hero's retirement, and then ad- 
 dress herself to the task of finding or training competent 
 leaders for her eager, multitudinous, but yet untrained 
 hosts of volunteer soldiers. For, alas! he who next to the 
 aged Scott, was best fitted by education and experience, for 
 that noble leadership, educated at the national military 
 school, already honored in the national service, a native 
 and resident of the same State of which Scott and Wash- 
 ington were natives, inheriting a portion of Washington's 
 
[31] 
 
 wealth, and having the prestige of affinity with Washing- 
 ton's family, closed his ears against the patriotic warnings 
 of Scott; trampled under his feet the principles of Wash- 
 ington; forsook the counsels and examples of those early 
 Virginians whose wisdom and patriotism gave their native 
 State so glorious a share in founding the republic; and, 
 with a folly like Rehoboam's, followed the guidance of 
 those "architects of ruin" who had obtained political con- 
 trol of degenerate Virginia, and made her pestilent heresy 
 of State sovereignty the plausible apology for rebellion. 
 Col. Robert E. Lee — (he never has received any higher 
 rank from any government that now exists, or that ever 
 had a right to exist) — Col. Robert E. Lee, of the United 
 States Army, very deliberately resigned his honorable rank 
 and position when his country needed his services, and gave 
 his services, his education, his talents, his sword — to "Vir- 
 ginia," he says. Yes, to Virginia in rebellion, and to all 
 who would combine with Virginia in her rebellion. Let 
 him look to Virginia for suitable reward of the service he 
 has rendered her. 
 
 Col. Lee's defection prevented the early defeat, and ren- 
 dered possible the temporary success and the endurance 
 through four terrible years, of that rebel power of which 
 Jeffiirson Davis was the head, That power is now de- 
 stroyed. Davis is now a fugitive from justice. It is the 
 duty of all good citizens to seize him, if possible, and de« 
 liver him to the government. If this shall be done, or if 
 in resisting the attempt to do this, he shall share the fate 
 of Booth, or of Absalom, what impartial reader of history 
 will say that he is less deserving of it than they? Waiv-. 
 ing all question of his direct complicity with Booth, or his 
 
[32] 
 
 knowledge of his purpose, who will be able to separate in 
 thought the murder of the President, from Davis' persis- 
 tent effort to murder the Union ? Who possibly can think 
 that Booth hated the President for anything else than for 
 his faithful and successful defense of the Union against Jef- 
 ferson Davis? Who can doubt to whose protection the 
 murderer was sagaciously flying? Who doubts that if he 
 could have slain his yictim and escaped to Richmond, while 
 Davis still ruled there, he Avould have received the honors 
 and ap]3lauses for which he morbidly thirsted ? What pos- 
 sibility is left to us, by the careful, abundant, published 
 testimony, of doubting that thousands of as innocent and 
 patriotic men as Abraham Lincoln, have deliberately been 
 starved to death, by the authority of Jefferson Davis, and 
 without one word of remonstrance from Robert E. Lee? 
 
 These kindred crimes, (starvation of helpless prisoners 
 to weaken the loyal army, and assassina,tion of the Presi- 
 dent, to distract or paralyze the nation,) must be admitted 
 to indicate the nature of that rebellion, in whose interest 
 and by whose inspiration they have been committed. They 
 are symptoms of its malignity; they are illustr^itions of its 
 barbarity; and they are least surprising to those who have 
 longest and most carefully studied that system in behalf of 
 Avhich this great rebellion was made. The barbarities of 
 rebel prisons, during the last four years, are not more 
 dreadful than the customary, legalized practices of that do- 
 mestic slave trade of which Richmond was long the most 
 famous mart. 
 
 I have heard a man of the highest respectability describe 
 a scene which his own eyes had witnessed in that city — a 
 large company of little children, neatly and even gaily 
 
[33] 
 
 dressed, ready to be sold at auction, each to the highest 
 bidder; and we know that, daily, in those slave-markets, 
 children, and men, and women were placed upon the auc- 
 tion block for sale. Their muscles, their bones, their bodi- 
 ly vigor, their brains, their intelligence, their beauty, their 
 modesty, their virtue, their piety — all were articles of sale 
 or qualities determining their market value. 
 
 The number of little children who have been torn from 
 their mothers to be sold in Richmond, into regions from 
 which those mothers would never hear from them again — 
 the number of adult men similarly sold away from theij* 
 families — the number of adult women [some of whom were 
 as modest and as fair as our own sisters or daughters,) 
 who have stood on those auction-blocks, exposed to sale to 
 the highest bidder, without question of his purj)oses and 
 without defense against his will — of either of these, 1 
 think it not unlikely, in all the years while those horrors 
 were legalized, the number may have been greater than the 
 whole number of our men ever confined in the prisons of 
 Richmond. Yet, which of us would not prefer all the hor- 
 rors of such imprisonment to the experience in his own 
 person or that of child or sister, of that one incident of 
 slavery? — an incident, however, which only fairly illus- 
 trates the nature, and laws and principles of that accursed 
 institution. 
 
 That that instsiution might Ije made the foundation of a 
 new empire, which should encircle the Gulf of Mexico as 
 the Roman Empire did the Mediterranean, and should 
 dominate this continent as that did the other, was tlie pur- 
 pose of that rebellion which Jefferson Davis led, and to 
 which Alexander Stephens adhered aft^r publishing to the 
 
[34 ] 
 
 world a clear and unanswerable refutation of all the politi- 
 cal pretexts on which its early advocates sought to justify 
 it. Our government does not need, scarcely can it have a 
 more complete justification of its firm stand against that 
 rebellion, and its final complete subjugation of it, than the 
 simple transcript upon the historic page of that famous 
 speech against secession, made and published by Alexander 
 Stephens, a few weeks before he became "Vice President" 
 of the rebel confederacy. 
 
 Is there wanting, in the falsehood of its inception, in the 
 ungodliness of its principles, in the inhumanity of its pur- 
 pose, or in the fiendish malignity of its deliberately chosen 
 methods, anything to render this great rebelhon detestable 
 and deserving of as ignominious an end as that of Absa- 
 lom's rebellion? 
 
 In respect to the duty of our government to inflict judi- 
 cial vengeance upon the leaders or adherents of rebellion, 
 as such, irrespective of their direct complicity in the crime 
 of assassinating the President, I am not disposed to dogma- 
 tize. There are questions of law and right on that subject 
 upon which I jDrefer to await the investigation and deci- 
 sion 'of the proper tribunals. The former experience of 
 our country has been so happy that we have had little oc- 
 casion to study many of these questions. 
 
 The question (for example) what are the legal liabilities 
 of men whose surrender has been accepted as jjrisoners of 
 war, and who faithfully keep their parole, is one which 
 seems to me to be overlooked by some who demand with- 
 out qualification, that men who are in that situation, shall 
 be put to death. 
 
 I do not discuss that question. Let it be discussed by 
 
[35] 
 
 the lawyers/^ and decided by the courts. But it is prop- 
 er here to exhort all to cultivate careful and scrupulous re- 
 gard for all the obligations of veracity and honor which 
 shall be found to exist. If, according to the true principles 
 which should govern in the case, as exj)ounded by those 
 who are comj)etent to expound them; if, according to the 
 laws and usages of Christian nations, the faith of our coun- 
 try is properly to be regarded as pledged to Lee and John- 
 ston, and all who were surrendered under them, let that 
 faith be kej^t carefully, scrupulously. Let not a hair on 
 the head of one of them be touched, contrary to any 
 pledge which lawfully commits and binds the government. 
 
 Let the like carefulness and scrupulousness aj)ply, ac- 
 cording to the facts and laws that are ajDplicable to the 
 case of Davis,f or Breckenridge, or Stephens, or any other 
 one whom our government may have in its power. 
 
 Let us carefully, praj^erfully guard ourselves against all 
 the natural tendency of our minds to feelings of revenge. 
 No personal bitterness or malignity is justifiable. But it is 
 not personal bitterness nor malignity which most firmly 
 
 '■Professional opinions and expositions of the law which the writer has more 
 recently seen, convince him that the military parole does not release men from 
 responsibility to the courts for any belligerent acts in violation of the laws of 
 war, (e. g. murder and starvation of prisoners^) nor for their original crime of 
 treason. The degree of executive clemency to be exercised is a question for the 
 President. May God give him wisdom and firmness to be neither unnecessarily 
 severe, nor so merciful to criminals as to be "cruel the nation." 
 
 fSince this discourse was delivered and before it goes to press, we are permit- 
 ted to rejoice that the official head of the conspiracy has been arrested — that he 
 is in the power of the government ns an arrested criminal, caught in disguise, 
 not surrendered with an army, under military capitulation — and that what- 
 ever questions there may be about such capitulations, they can in no wise 
 apply to him. 
 
 Col. R. E. Lee has been reported as pleading for his late master in crime, that 
 he (Davis) no more deserves punishment than anj- who acted under him. " He 
 was only the rrprcscntatii^e of those who accepted his control in their organized 
 
[36] 
 
 and most sternly demands the due punishment of treason. 
 There is no inconsistency between the tonching exhorta- 
 tion to "charity for all" and "malice toward none," with 
 which our late President closed his last inaugural address, 
 and the declarations of the present President, that mercy 
 to individuals may be cruelty to the nation, and that it is 
 necessary for the safety and peace of the nation, and of 
 coming generations, that treason be recognized and treated 
 as an infamous crime. 
 
 I remember no finer discrimination than that which was 
 once made by Daniel Webster, in regard to the object of 
 penal law. The counsel for the defense of a person ac- 
 cused of a crime, ( Webster being counsel for the prosecu- 
 tion,) had said in his plea, "The object of the law is not 
 to punish the guilty, but to protect the innocent." Web- 
 ster's clear logic detected, and his powerful rhetoric exposed 
 the fallacy by this reply : " The object of the law is to pro- 
 tect the innocent bi/ punishing the guilty." 
 
 Under the influence of Christian sentiments, we did not 
 desire, as an end, that even the murderer of our President 
 should be put to death, but we did desire it as the means to 
 an end, an end for which the lives of ten thousand such as 
 he might well be given. We would fain make the murder 
 of this nation's President, the sacrilegious violation of the 
 
 rebellion." \'erj" atcU. We accept this view. Davis was no more ffiiilfj/ than 
 many others — but he and they consented that he should be their '•representative.'^ 
 As their representative he has been arrested; as their representative let him suf- 
 fer the full penalty of the law. As lovers of justice, and still desiring the least 
 shedding of blood which will answer the ends Of justice, we devoutly thank God 
 that he has given into the power of our rulers the one man, who more fitly than 
 all others, maj- •'represent'' the great rebellion to the end. And when he shall 
 have fulfilled his representative obligation as he is now likely to do. ''let all the 
 people say Amen." 
 
[ 37] 
 
 nation's highest authority, an impossible crime — a crime 
 to which hereafter no wretch will dare to be tempted. 
 
 In like manner would we, if possible, secure the coming 
 generations of this people against the danger of such a con- 
 spiracy as it has cost this generation so mucli of its 1)lood 
 to quell. No life that has been forfeited t(j justice should 
 be spared from considerations of mercy, to the diminishing 
 of that security. Yet, let us not suppose that our security 
 depends entireh' upon the bringing to justice of the lead- 
 ers of rebellion. Or rather, let us not suppose that their 
 arraignment and trial before our courts is the only method 
 by which, in God's righteous providence, they may l)e 
 brought to justice. If they escape to foreign lands, as Ar- 
 nold did, and know that they can never return to their na- 
 tive land, save to be arrested as. felons — if any of them are 
 permitted to live, disfranchised, amid constituents whom 
 they have ruined — will they not dolefully sigh, as Cain, 
 " My punishment is greater than lean bear?" Will not 
 their blighted reputations, and the ever-increasing ignominy 
 of that detestable cause to a\ hicli they sacrificed their po- 
 sitions and characters, be the most effectual warning to the 
 3-oung men in the future ? And is not the woe and deso- 
 lation which their chosen war has brought down upon the 
 rebel communities, a retribution and a warning of the same 
 import and effect, as any judicial inflictions could be. and 
 on a far grander scale? 
 
 Behold the devastation of fields, and the desolation of 
 cities, through all the rebel States! Their homes are all 
 dark with a sorrow which no joy of victory can lighten. 
 Their women are all dressed in mourning for men buried in 
 graves which shall have no honorable monuments. The 
 
[38] 
 
 maimed and crippled survivors of their conquered armies 
 can have no honoring pensions. We will feed them in 
 charity, but they can asjDire to no higher honor than ixcr- 
 don and amnesty! And even their innocent orphans — our 
 care must be not to remind them of their parentage. 0, 
 this has been the crime of States, and on the whole people 
 of those States must inevitably come the just, the exem- 
 jDlary, the monitory jDunishment. This, it is now abun- 
 dantly manifest, God has appointed — this in His wonderful 
 providence, He is fearfully executing. Let us be content 
 to be merely instruments in His hands, and submissive also 
 to our share of the judgment, for sins in which our late Presi- 
 dent so solemly reminded us that both parts of the nation 
 have participated.* 
 
 And finally, humbly sensible of our fallibility, and the 
 fallibility of our rulers, let us fervently pray God to keep 
 us, and to guide and uphold them. Turning away from 
 the grave of our murdered President, of which you, the 
 people of Springfield, and your children after you, are to 
 be the favored custodians, let us give to his lawful succes- 
 sor our prayers, and our vows, and our sustaining sympa- 
 thy. May God make him so wise, and faithful and strong, 
 and enable him so to illustrate his country's justice that all 
 her loyal people shall dwell in safety and peace, because all 
 who would rise against her to do her hurt, shall have rea- 
 
 *Slavery was the Absalom of this rebellion, the- parricide of our country. It 
 has thrust its shaggy head into the stiff boughs of the good old oak of Union i 
 the miserable mule of secession that it rode has slipped away from beneath it, 
 and left it dangling; its heart is pierced by the "three darts" of confiscation, 
 presidential emancipation and the employment of freedmen as soldiers; and now 
 behold the people piling upon its carcass, like a " very great|heap of stones," their 
 State ordinances of abolition and the National Constitutional Amendment, which 
 is to "proclaipi liberty throughout all the land, unto all the mhabitanf.i thereof." 
 
[ 39 ] 
 
 son to expect a fate as fearful and as ignominious as that 
 of Booth and of Absalom. 
 
X 
 
 LB S '12