Class _i:i^^/ Rook S/^y GopyiightN°_C' COPYKIGHT DEPO: ABRAHAM LINCOLN AN INTERPRETATION IN BIOGRAPHY BY L. <:NT0N J. SNIDER ST. LOUIS, MO. SIGMA PUBLISHING CO., 210 PINE STREET (For sale by A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago, Ills.) L4 5^l J LIBRARY of CONGRESS Two Copies Kecetved COPY >.' CW XXc. No. C V Copyright by D. J. Snider, 1908. Nixon-Jones Printing Co., 215 Pine St., St. Louis BecktolC & Co., Binders 210 Pine St., St. Louis CONTENTS Introduction page Meaning of Lincoln's Life ... 5-12 Part First Lincoln's Apprenticeship .... 13-257 Chapter First. Lincoln's Youth . . ... 20- 91 Chapter Second. Drifting ... 92-200 Chapter Third. Getting Anchored 201-257 (iii) IV cox TENTS. Part Second. page Lincoln's National Call .... 258-515 Chapter First. From State to Nation .... 269-305 Chapter Second. Lincoln's Subsidence 306-356 Chapter Third. The National Choice 357-5 L5 Part Third. Lincoln, the Nation's Executive. 516-575 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. introduction: President-elect Lincoln, while on his journey to the Capital for the purpose of being installed in the highest office of the Nation, felt prompted by the locality to make certain biographic remarks in an address before the Senate of New Jersey, at Tren- ton, a few days preceding his inauguration. These remarks show the formative power of biography over a human career, notably over that of Lincoln, and hint suggestively, even if unconsciously, the lines upon which his life is to be constructed by the biographer. Preluding what is to follow by these words of Lincoln, we shall emphasize his salient thoughts. Let us then, first of all, hear him speak. (5) 6 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. "May I be pardoned, if, upon this occasion, I mention that away back in ray childhood, the earliest days of my being able to read, I got hold of a small book, such a one as few of the younger members have ever seen — Weems' Life of Wash- ington. I remember all the accounts there given of the battle-fields and struggles for the liberties of the country, and none fixed themselves upon my imagination so deeply as the struggle here at Tren- ton, New Jersey. . . . You all know, for you have been boys, how these early impressions last longer than any others. I recollect thinking then, boy even though I was, that there must have been something more than common that these men strug- gled for. I am exceedingly anxious that that thing, that something even more them national in- dependence, that something that held out a great 'promise to all the people of the world to all time to come — I am exceedingly anxious that this Union, the Constitution and the liberties of the people shall be perpetuated in accordance with the origi- nal idea for which that struggle was made, and I shall be most happy indeed if I shall be an hum- ble instrument in the hands of the Almighty, and of this, his almost chosen People, for perpetuating the object of that great struggle." Thus Lincoln in sight of his mighty task, gives expression to the thoughts which well out of his heart in presence of the historic associations clus- tering around the New Jersey Capital. The chief INTRODUCTION. 7 interest is that the speaker calls up Washington moving from the hour of his sorest trial forward to one of his greatest triumphs, and instinctively couples that time with the present. An epoch is dawning equal in magnitude to that of the Revolution, if not more colossal; very naturally Lincoln conjoins himself with Washington, and becomes aware of himself as the pilot to a new era, though with deep foreboding, as he looks out from Trenton upon the coming crisis. Nor should we omit to note those fleeting pro- phetic intimations, those fitful flashes of foresight and insight into the Supreme Order, of which Lin- coln in his high moments was capable, and which break forth through detached phrases from the hidden depths of his agitated soul. He is conscious that something is at stake " even more than na- tional independence", which was the purpose of the old Revolution. He glimpses the far-extending, globe-encircling significance of the contest, involv- ing in its result " a great promise to ah the people of the world to all time to come": surely a vast outlook, world-historical in the widest sense. And the biographer must try to stretch his own soul to the vision of that promise seen by Lincoln, and to give to it some kind of utterance. Moreover Lincoln's great happiness is in feeling himself to be "an instrument in the hands of the Almighty" as well as an instrument in the hands " of this His almost chosen People", to bring about the grand 8 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. coming consummation of the ages. It may be per- mitted to draw forth into clearer oiitHne from the shadowy twihght in which they float, these pro- phetic premonitions of Lincoln. We behold liim forecasting his highest function, and placing him- self between the People (or Folk-Soul) on this side, and on that side the Almighty revealing Himself as the World-Spirit in the historic occurrences of Time. Thus he is truly an instrument of both these Powers, the one here below and the other there above ; a mediator we may name him between the Folk-Soul and the World-Spirit, both of which he, Abraham Lincoln, is born to harmonize, after they have produced just about the loudest and shrill- est dissonance of the century, if not of all history. So he speaks, not with the strictness of a logical formula but with the glinnnering outline of a far- off forecast, discoursing first of that Power more than national, in supereminent sway over all the people of the world to all time to come, then of himself as instrument of it, who is to bring it down and realize it in this his almost chosen People, also an elemental Power in the enduring world-histor- ical act. Now it is these two Powers which will move through the life of Lincoln, and will be by him interwoven, and indeed unified, making him truly the Great Man of his nation and epoch. To each of them we give its own name, that they be distinctly marked off and specially designated. In the People, from whom Lincoln springs, to whom INTRODUCTION 9 he appeals, and for whom he acts, is working a character, an instinct, a Soul — we shall often call it the Folk-Soul. The almighty, providential Power, whom Lincoln often invokes under one name or other, who has his hand on human events, and directs them to his end, we shall name the world-historical Spirit, or simply the World-Spirit. This last is "something more than common", "more than national", yet employing the particu- lar nation at a given time as its upbearer and realizer for fulfilling a given stage of the supreme end of the World's History. Moreover between these two Powers there is a certain immediate re- lation, as when we hear it said that in a great crisis Public Opinion (the Folk-Soul) bears directly the impress of the Genius of the Age (the World- Spirit) . In such a case, however, the Folk needs a leader in word and action, voicing its dumb as- piration and bringing it to realize in deeds the decree of the supernal Power whose potency it feels and whose end it carries out. Such a leader for our Nation in its pivotal crisis was Lincoln, mediating, as we designate the relation, this par- ticular American Folk-Soul of ours, with the uni- versal World-Spirit, the Prime Mover in and over all History. Another fact should be taken out of the forego- ing bit of a speech and dwelt upon with due atten- tion : Lincoln had read during his early youth in the frontier cabin of his parents the life of George 10 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Washington by M. L. Weems, who, we learn from the title-page, was "formerly rector of Mount Vernon parish", where was located the well-known residence of the Father of his Country, That book had gone deep into Lincoln's soul and had stayed with him through life, not only furnishing an ideal of manhood and moulding his character, but also showing him the way to reach the popular heart. For Weems was a story-teller, an anecdotist, yea a myth-maker, or at least a myth-gatherer, weav- ing around the name of Washington many a won- derful legend. Such for instance, was the marvel- ous dream of Washington's mother (with interpre- tation by Weems), and the hero's providential escapes from his foes, the Indians and the British, the whole being garnished with apt allusions to Scripture and even to Homer. In the same book is found the most popular of all American folk-tales,, the story of the Little Hatchet with its moral cli- max: "Father, I can't tell a lie". This story, Weems says, was taken down from the lips of "an excellent lady ", of old the depository and trans- mitter of folk-lore. Deeply educative was the book for the almost schoolless boy reading in the night by the fire of a back-log; even then he was getting ready for his task, and he now recognizes the fact, as he looks rearward into his past, una- voidably connecting himself with Washington, wherein most of his countrymen have since fol- lowed him. It is true that there is a striking dif- INTRODUCTION. 11 ference between the high-toned, well-educated, dignified Virginia gentleman and the awkward, self-made backwoodsman of the North-West. The one represented the Right of Revolution and suc- ceeded ; the other represented the Wrong of Revo- lution and succeeded. The career of the first led primarily to separation and won it; the career of the second led primarily to union and won it. Still both sprang from the same Virginia, though at dif- ferent removes ; the one may be called the son and the other the grandson of the Old Commonwealth. The triumphant end of Washington's war was Yorktown^ the triumphant end of Lincoln's war was- Appomattox, both places being in the same general locality of the same State, Virginia. Rector Weems thus heroizes Washington for his People and writes a unique book, though running somewhat in the Plutarchian mythologic vein and breaking out into dramatic dialogue upon tempt- ing occasions. Such a biography is at present hardly possible, perchance not desirable, though to our forefathers it had unquestionably its mes- sage. Lincoln drew from it deep joys and deeper training of the spirit. His own life was enwreathed, particularly while he was President, in masses of fable ever sprouting afresh from the Folk-Soul, he being himself the People's own fabulist. This the biographer cannot neglect, though with it must be given the profounder significance of Lincoln's career, truly world-historical. 12 ABRAHAM LINCOLN Another utterance may be cited, concordant with the foregoing statement, showing to whom Lincohi's thoughts reverted as he beheld and brooded over the coming trials of his country. His fellow-citizens of Springfield assembled for a part- ing salutation when he set out to assume his Presi- dential duties, with the cloud of Civil War already darkening the Southern horizon. He bade them farewell, breathing a sigh of premonition and giv- ing a glimpse of that great man of the past in whose presence he seemed to live during those try- ing days: "I now leave, not knowing when or whether ever I may return, ivith a task before me greater than tluxt which rested upon Washington." pact jfirst. When it began to be foreshadowed ' about 1859- 60 that Abraham Lincohi was the coming man of the supreme national emergency, a great desire was felt to know how he got to be. Even to his friends the lines of his early life ran back into a cloud which he seemed unwilling to disperse. Two little bits of autobiography were wrung from him by the necessities of the approaching campaign. From the first we take the following extract which gives a glimpse of his early opportunities for (13) 14 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. education in the backwoods of Indiana. (Works of Lincoln, by Nicolay & Hay, I, p. 596.) 'There were some schools so-called, but no qualification was ever required of a teacher beyond reading writing and ciphering to the rule of three. If a straggler supposed to understand Latin happened to sojourn in the neighborhood, he was looked upon as a wizard. There was absolutely nothing to excite ambition for education." Still we shall see that Lincoln learned from these frontier teachers the elements and the educative instrumentalities of all culture. He thus had the chance of making further progress by means of the printed page, though "I have not been to school since. The little advance I now have upon this store of education, I have picked up from time to time under the pressure of necessity." Somewhat too disparaging is the tone of these confessions, as Lincoln contrasted himself with Seward and other college-bred men in public life. But he had oppor- tunities for training which they had not, and which are by no means to be omitted from any complete account of his life's discipline for his mighty task. In the other bit of autobiography (Works, I, p. 639), written in the third person, for use during the campaign of 1860, he returns to the defects of his early education: "Abraham now thinks that the aggregate of all his schooling did not amount to one year. He was never in a college or academy LINCOLN'S APPRENTICESHIP. 15 as a student, and never inside a college or academy building till since he had a law license. What he has in the way of education, he has picked up. After he was twenty-three he studied English Grammar — imperfectly of course, but so as to speak and write as he now does. He studied and nearly mastered the six books of Euclid since he was a member of Congress," that is, after he was forty years old. Through these simple modest paragraphs peeps out the unquenchable aspiration of the man; he educates himself and graduates from a school of which he is the only man of his time who holds or can hold a diploma. Now that school with its curriculum is just what our reader, we hope, wishes to hear about in this book of ours. Still another precious autobiographic morsel concerning Lincoln we can catch up from the first pages of his Bos well, Hcrndon. Just after the Chicago Convention of 1860, a reporter by the name of Scripps, called upon him for some details of his life. Lincoln at first shrank from the idea, exclaiming, "Why, Scripps, it is a great piece of folly to make anything out of me or my early life. It can all be condensed into a single sentence, and that sentence you will find in Gray's Elegy, The short and simple annals of the poor. That's my life, and that is all that you or anyone else can make of it." And yet the life of Lincoln before ISGO has 16 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. become that part of him which tho People love to hang over and ponder upon in a kind of in- satiable wonder. More than any other recorded career it reveals the possibilities of the American man rising from the humblest to the highest position in the land. How did he do it? The reader clutches and caresses every little fact try- ing to coax out of it some brief whisper of the lurking secret. Lincoln's education certainly flowed not in the ordinary channels made by the stream of transmitted culture. Still he had an education unique of its kind and preparing him supremely for his world-historical function. Now this education of Lincoln, being quite different from what is usually included under that term and reaching considerably beyond the usual school-age, we shall designate specially as his Aj^prcnticeship, which indeed covers the first thirty-three years of his life, from his birth till his marriage. And this considerable stretch of human existence has like- wise its lesser turns and tides, which the biog- rapher should not fail to trace in passing. Lincoln the apprentice, therefore, we are to follow in the present period, tracking him as far as possible along the main lines of his spirit's early flowering. We are to behold in it a time of pre- liminary training for his work ; we can hardly leave out of view whither he is going, and under what guidance. Easy enough is it ordinarily to tell to what school, college, university this or that dis- LINCOLN'S APPRENTICESHIP. 17 tinguished man went, what he studied and who were his teachers, in the beaten road of academic discipline. But all this becomes just the difficult thing to speak out and even to find in the case of Lincoln, who has and even makes his own curric- ulum while he goes along. He creates his college course as he lives, and the biographer must create it after 'him from the little and few fragments which have been fished out of his youth's fountain of oblivion. His chief instruction does not take place in a building devoted to education; Lincoln's school-house is the world, more particularly his institutional environment, which he is to absorb more completely and to become acquainted with more intimately than any other man of his time. The People was his instructor, and he learned the lesson so well that he in the end became the in- structor of the People. We may say, then, that during the first period of his life Lincoln was the apprentice of the Folk- Soul, especially as the latter manifested itself in the Northwestern portion of the United States. Primarily he is of it, one with it, pulsing respon- sively to all its throbs; an embryo we may regard him, not yet consciously born of his institutional mother, even if lustily struggling for birth and the light of Heaven. During all these years, a full generation indeed, young Lincoln is but a germinal unit, an atom of the vast protoplasmic mass called the Multitude, from which, through the discipline 18 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. of life, he is to differentiate himself and rise up to true individuality. This concentrates into one burning point the People, who thus in their Great Man can see themselves by their own light. Through such individuals a Nation, if it can produce them, need never die, being able to re-constitute and to re-make itself in the pinch of destiny The apprentice Lincoln — so we may name him for the nonce — we are now to see in the workshop or school of the Folk-Soul, learning its ways, how it looks at things, and particularly how it deals with its own institutions. He has to get widely and well acquainted with his own around him — the hardest branch in the curriculum of life. More- over he has not merely to commune deeply with the Folk-Soul, but he must learn to talk to it in its own dialect. Thus it understands him when he speaks to it, and it responds to him, often with a tremendous acclaim. On the other hand he under- stands it, probably better than any other American has ever succeeded in doing. Still all this he has to learn, and this is the theme of his Apprenticeship, Anecdote, fable, law, politics, even love are some of the elements surging through the long discipline, often chaotic in outer appearance, but inwardly attuned to one harmonious end, if our ear can be brought to catch the music. Here, however, we shall just hint what the future is fully to reveal. This Apprenticeship is not the finality of the man, but is only the means, LINCOLN'S APPRENTICESHIP. 19 the road leading him forward to his supreme voca- tion. As he himself declared, he is "the instru- ment" in the hands of the Almighty and of the People to fulfil the grand behest of the Ages. Still he has to have preparation and a good deal of it. This Apprenticeship is, accordingly, but a part or stage of the total Lincoln. Nevertheless it has its own process and its own law governing its some- what diversified and scattered occurrences. These are what we shall have to study, seeking to put them into some kind of inner relation and order, which brings to light their psychical movement, and thus reveals the soul itself in its unfolding. This Apprenticeship, we may say in advance, will show Lincoln in three stages or chapters of his spirit's evolution towards its supreme end: first, his youth with its schooling at home under the paternal roof, then his going forth and experiencing the world in a time of drifting, finally his getting established in State, Community and Family, or his becoming institutionalized. With this last phase his Apprenticeship is rounded out to fullness, and the Apprentice passes on to the next great sweep of his life's occurrences driving forward towards his goal. CHAPTER FIRST. Xtncoln'0 IJoutb* The boundary of Lincoln's youthful period we may draw through the year when he becomes of age, and quits parental guidance for the direct ex- perience of the world. He reaches a new individ- uality, being now his own master; a kind of second birth it is, bringing him into another, yet inde- pendent life. From babyhood to manhood we conceive Lincoln's youth to range, dropping upon his path many an important lesson which he will never forget. In his tenth year the tenderest tie of his young existence was snapped in twain by the death of his mother, which stamped or helped to stamp upon his soft heart and even upon his face lines of an undying sorrow. Accordingly Lincoln, till he was twenty-one years old, remained at home, and received the domestic training of his father's family. It was a shifting unsettled household, yet had an inner life over which the two women, the mother and the step- mother, successively presidetl, giving to it in the humblest surroundings a real nobility of character and depth of feeling. This training of the home through his two mothers developed and purified Lincoln's emotional life, so that his native human sympathy was always one of his mightiest powers. To be sure he was originally gifted with a great re- (20) CHAPTER FIRST— LLXCOLX'S YOUTH. 21 sponsive heart, which nevertheless might have been dwarfed or perverted had it not been un- folded and ennobled by the maternal instinct moulding the child-soul in the home. Abraham Lincoln was born February 12th, 1809, three miles from the little town of Hodgensville, in a locality which was then included in Hardin County, Kentucky, but which now belongs to La Rue County. His .parents were named Thomas and Nancy Lincoln, whose social position was that of the poor class of Southerners. The son de- clared in a brief sketch of himself (in 1859) that "my parents were both born in Virginia, of un- distinguished families — second families perhaps I should say." Wherein we feel the unspoken con- trast with the first families of Virginia, so famous, to which his people did not belong. We have already seen how Lincoln shrank from his own biography in his response to reporter Scripps just after his nomination for the Presi- dency. Of course he could not and did not appre- ciate the import of his own life up to 1860, when he made the before cited statements about himself. And he was then seemingly correct in his judgment. The succeeding five years are to bring out the man and to set him down in the very focus of the World's History, which will throw a search-light into every little nook of his previous humble existence. Those last years of his were the realization of what lay in him, and revealed him equal to the mightiest 22 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. crisis of the age. So mankind must find out how he came to be what he was, and will persist in pry- ing into every dark corner of his earlier days to see if it can not discover the clew of his genesis. That inquisitive reporter of 18G0 was but the brief pre- lude of a long line of biographers running down into the present and shooting out many a bud for the future. A word may be inserted here upon the scope of the present work, which does not attempt to add new details of Lincoln's life, but tiD order and inter- pret old facts, those already well-known and col- lected by numerous investigators.- Nor is there intended a critique of the extensive Lincoln Hterature, though such a work would be timely, if done by the right hand in the right way. Within all the outer occurrences of his life we seek to see and to utter the spiritual or psychical evolution of Lincoln unfolding in and through the institutions of his land, which he not only maintained but also transformed, thereby putting them in line with the movement of the World's History. It is well known that Lincoln often reflected upon, yea, brooded over the mystery of his origin and destiny. He seemed unable to account for himself from his parentage, and refused to give any detailed report of his early life. Still the chief facts of it have been hunted up and garnered in print by diligent inquirers. Along the track of his youthful days he left a luminous record m tlie ANCESTRAL. 23 memories of living men with whom he was asso- ciated, and who have been sought out in their obscure haunts hke hidden treasures, that they might yield a few nuggets of golden information concerning Abraham Lincoln. Likewise his re- mote kindred have been exhumed, if not from their graves, at least from old buried records, in order that the line of his descent may be traced, perchance to discover the secret of his genius. For the deep necessity of the time is to see the great man and the great event evolving out of their germ, this present century of ours being truly the century of Evolution. So it belongs in the present biographic theme to follow carefully the youthful steps of Lincoln in his first period of Apprenticeship to the Folk- Soul, and to keep meantime in view the task for which he is under training, possibly with an occa- sional glimpse of the Power which has set him such a task and is constraining him to such an Appren- ticeship. I. Ancestral, It is stated that the American ancestral chain of Lincoln starts about 1G38 with the coming of Samuel Lincoln to Hingham, Massachusetts, from Norwich, England, some eighteen years after the landing of the Pilgrims. At this date the mother- country was getting into deeper and deeper trouble 24 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. with her king, and many of her sons, foreseeing the civil conflict, were looking towards America as a refuge from oppression and as a bulwark for the maintenance of their political and religious liberty. What directly caused the emigration of Samuel Lincoln is not known; but we may feel a throb of the movement of the time in the prohibition of 1637, in which the Puritans were forbidden by the government to lea^T England, so great was their flight to the New World. Still they continued to escape to the })romised land in the West regardless of the prohibition. If the first American progenitor of Abraham Lincoln was a fugitive from his native country for the sake of greater liberty (a matter probable but not verified), we find a later ancestor separating from his New England home and settling in Penn- sylvania, Berks County, probably for a similar reason. We read that these early Lincolns were Quakers, and there seems to have been a second hegira to the paradise of William Penn and Quaker- dom. It is well known that the Puritans did not tolerate any heresy (except their own), and that they persecuted the heretical Quakers, who, as men of peace, naturally took to flight. Still a branch of the Lincoln family remained in Massachusetts, and one of its eminent members met there our historic Abraham Lincoln in 1848, over two hundred years after the landing of their supposedly common ancestor. ANCESTRAL. 25 The next step in this ancestral march of descent and of migration was taken from Pennsylvania to Virginia, to which State a John Lincoln moved about 1750 and settled in Rockingham County. Here the Revolutionary War overtook the family; one of the sons of John Lincoln, Isaac by name, enlisted, and was a lieutenant in a Virginia regi- ment at the surrender of Yorktown. Four other sons are known by name, but they seem to have held themselves aloof from the great issue of the age, probably in accord with their Quaker faith. Moreover, their look was turned westward, they were by nature pioneers, and had to take another flight from civilization to the woods. The quiet idyllic life of the solitar}^ Quaker settlement on the remote border of their advancing race seems to have been their ideal. At any rate the family in its manifold offshoots throughout the Southern and Western States, never furnished any public men of note, with the one colossal exception, though the Massachusetts branch produced a. number of distinguished citizens. Still this dip of the family into Virginia's in- stitutional life was an important event of its history. The migratory stream at that time was turning southward, as it later bent back northward when the slavery question began to make itself felt. In the middle of the eighteenth century, Virginia was altogether the largest, richest, and most influential of the American Commonwealths. Its population 26 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. then was nearly as great as that of New York and Massachusetts combined; the chief seaport on the Atlantic coast was Norfolk, though Charleston might dispute the claim. Boston and New York lagged to the rear. Also .in Mrginia at that time were the statesmen of the rising nation, the moulders of its institutions. How that Common- wealth ever brought forth so many and such excellent public-men is still a problem which no historian of \'irginia has yet solved or even fully presented. And this suggests her limitation; she seems unable to write the history she herself has made; her practical gift has far surpassed her reflective. Very different is New England, which has the moral, self-examining, critical spirit rather than the institutional, and has produced a wonder- ful stream of preachers, writers and talkers — an output by no means to be neglected, even if its character be somewhat provincial. Here it must not fail to be noted that Virginia then was the main center from which rayed out the new States of the Union. She had or claimed the vast territory lying to the North-west, to the West directly, and in part to the South-west, till the Mississippi. Thus she was in area by far the largest of the Old Thirteen. Truly she possessed not only the domain but the ability to be the State- builder for the future. This was in fact just her supreme function, deeply in accord with her institutional character. Really she was the only ANCESTRAL. 27 one of the old Commonwealths that had such a transcendent gift in good working order, as is shown by the Constitution of the United States, which was substantially her product. Still the other Commonwealths participated in her excel- lence, and recognized her position. So it comes that the stream of migration already mentioned flowed from the north into Virginia and then passed on to the young States after a baptism, short or long, in her spirit. Thus she radiated new States to- wards all points of the Western land of promise. Of this great movement of the people, the Lincoln family was but one example, one small trunk of pioneers, though very fruitful, shooting branches into North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, lUinois, in general all around the horizon of the West. The curious fact has been brought to light that another Quaker family, the Boones, intertwine with the Lincolns in their migrations, the members of each branch frequently intermarrying on the way. Both started from Pennsylvania, Berks County, and spread southward and westward, till Daniel Boone, the most famous of all pioneers, and deemed the typical one, left a long trail of adven- tures reaching from Mrginia, through Tennessee and Kentucky, into Missouri, where he died. Him the old Greek would have heroized into a Hercules. Taking up again our thread of the migratory Lincolns, we note that the next act is the passing of one of them from Virginia (Rockingham County) 28 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST, into Kentucky (Jefferson County). The name of this Lincoln was Abraham, a name common in the family with other Hebrew names of the Old and New Testaments — by the light of which fact we may cast a glimpse into the chief and perhaps only book which the household possessed or read. This Abraham Lincoln arrived at his new home about 1780, turning away from the British invasion of his State and following the stream of emigrants which poured over the Alleghenies, or floated down the Ohio River in great family boats towards the new West. Already in 1780 Louisville is said to have had several hundred people, and in 1784 Kentucky's population was estimated at 30,000. Ohio was not yet much sought, its time came later, after that of Kentucky. This Abraham Lincoln was our Abraham's paternal grandfather, who owned an extensive estate, and seemingly brought with him from Virginia the ambition to be of the landed gentry. His life came to an untimely close by an Indian's bullet. His three sons were saved, only one of whom can we take up hereafter into this ancestral line, which has been throwing off Lincolns into obscurity for nearly a century and a half. Let the reader, however, note with due emphasis that migratory dip of people from the North into Virginia, ere they pass on in their movement to the West. About this time Virginia was at her greatest, being the representative of an idea which ANCESTRAL. 29 must be deemed not only national but world- historical. More than any other of the old com- monwealths, she shows herself to be the mother of States as well as of Presidents; she is verily the State-producing State before the Federal Union, which indeed derives that gift from her both in principle and in act. And another matter must not be forgotten. Virginia's greatest men of this period were hostile to slavery and sought to make her a Free-State, and actually did make her pro- duce Free-States, as we see by her act of ceding the North Western Territory in 1783, as well as by the ordinance of 1787. Still she also produced Slave- States, and her dualism was imparted to the then formed Union. Now it is this dualism of the Union as Free- State producing and as Slave-State producing, which our Abraham Lincoln, whom we may deem Virginia's grandson, will grapple with and over- come. Such is indeed the deepest thought of his career, which he seemed to inherit from the great men of Virginia contemporary with his grand- parents. Under his leadership the New States of the West which Virginia made free, will sweep back nearly a century later, and take the chief part in making her free, and thus realizing her own original idea of the State as creative of Free States — an idea which specially animated the earlier career of Jefferson. 30 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. II. Thomas Lincoln. Such was the name of the third son of grand- father Abraham Lincohi. As a httle boy Thomas saw his parent slain, and then saw the slayer slain in turn by his eldest brother called Mordecai. The bloody feud between the Indian and the white man thus weaves its crimson strand into the ancestral line of the Lincolns. The story is told of the little fellow standing beside his father's dead body in great danger of the tomahawk till the shot from his brother's rifle brought down the red assassin. The tragedy of the frontier is a part of our Abraham Lincoln's inheritance, and we shall see him later responding at once to a call for soldiers in the Black Hawk War against the Indians of the North- west. As late as 1854, in a letter, Lincoln alluded to the fate of his grandfather as ''the legend more strongly than all others impressed upon my mind and memory." Thomas Lincoln seems to have had no share in the paternal estate, of which the chief heir was the eldest son, according to the aristocratic law of primogeniture. The boy was left to shift for him- self, and he became shiftless. His people allowed him to grow up in ignorance; it is said that his first wife taught him to write his name in an awkward scribble. Though he did not receive any of his family's property, he did inherit its THOMAS LINCOLN. 31 migratory spirit, which in him took the form of a rover flitting about from place to place. The settling down into one spot seemed to be wdiat un- settled him. He learned a trade, that of carpenter, though his life was mostly passed upon a farm, or rather a number of farms in Kentucky, Indiana and Illinois. He died in 1851, but he lived long enough to see the tirst eminence of his son as lawyer and Congressman. It should be said, however, that Thomas Lincoln was not a bad man. He seems to have been quite free from the excesses of the backw^oodsman. He was not a drunkard, though he would take his turn at the bottle. He was religious, but the borderer demanded in his religion a strong stimulant, worship was to intoxicate him like a dram of whiskey. The chief indictment against him is that he not only gave no encouragement to his boy's strong aspiration, but rather suppressed it, wishing to keep his progeny in his own narrow, hopeless life of ignorance and poverty. Strangely after the mother it was a step-mother that nursed the ambition of the boy, appreciating his talent from the start, and giving him opportunities for study. Thomas Lincoln certainly showed that peculiar paralysis which has been so often remarked in the poor whites of the South, and which seemed to attack specially the younger sons of the gentility, who were too well-born to work and too poor to be idle. 32 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. It is recorded that Thomas Lincoln, after having wooed without success Miss SalHe Bush, a young lady of Elizabethtown, Kentucky, married in 1806 Miss Nancy Hanks, the future mother of the historic Abraham Lincoln, in whose destiny both these women have been interwoven, both being thereby crowned with an immortal renown. Recent investigation claims to show that man and wife were first cousins, and that they were of a higher class in the community than has been generally supposed, than even their own son, Lincoln him- self, supposed. Still we have to think that both parties belonged to the humbler class of the South, though the wife was the superior of the husband in education, in ability, and in aspiration. Her genealogy has been traced, and her first American ancestor, of English origin, settled in Plymouth, Massachusetts in 1699. Thence her family passed to Pennsylvania, as it belonged to the Quaker communion; next it is heard of in Virginia, from which it flowed with the great stream of migration into Kentucky. Thus the forefathers' march of the Hankscs runs strikingly parallel to that of the Lincolns, though wholly independent till the two come together in Virginia and then in Central Kentucky, where they intermingle and intermarry producing at last our Lincoln. So we conceive these two ancestral hues, the Lincolns and the Hankses, starting back in Old England apart in time and place, flowing over THOMAS LINCOLN. 33 the ocean to New England, and then sweeping out of the old States of the North into \'irginia, whence they both pass westward to the new, to the derived States of the Union. These, however, were only- typical instances of a great popular movement seeking to find its way to the future seat of the Nation. A voiceless instinct led them on, turning them not directly to and across the Ohio River, but first into Virginia to take a course of that institutional training which prepared them to be State-builders for the new Union. This migratory tide started many years before the Revolutionary War, and continued many years after it, lasting, perhaps a century or more, till Virginia decisively and finally refused to emancipate herself from the black curse, which emancipation all her early and greatest sons advocated. Then she turned its defender, its chief exponent and supporter. That was the time when she ceased to bear free institu- tions and Great Men, ceased to be the mother of States and of Presidents, and became the mother of slaves for the cotton plantations of the extreme South. Not reproachfully but regretfully do we set down the record which has in it one of the most striking lessons to be found in the histoiy of the whole country. Already we have groped for the cause of Virginia's fertility in Great Men, but now there rises the equally suggestive question why she lost her grandly creative power, passing into a spell of decadence, which culminated in a revolt 34 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. from the Union, of which she was the intellectual parent, and in an alienation from those Free-States of the West which she had once mothered with such loving foresight. It would seem that her institu- tional spirit and her leadership migrated with the progressive migration westward, when she made "the great refusal . " Let us, however, return to our young married couple, Thomas and Nancy Lincoln, who have started out in hfe at Elizabethtown, Kentucky, with their first housekeeping. Of their early days we catch hardly any suggestive glimpse unless it be that picture of the young wife teaching her rather unambitious husband to scrawl his name. It has been handed down that he worked fitfully at his trade, that of a carpenter, but he readily could turn his hand to other kinds of labor. He lived in a log cabin, as did the majority of his fellow-townsmen at that period, and was inclined to take life easy, seeking no job but letting it come to him in its own good time. He soon felt that he must change his locality, and we find him after a couple of years on a little farm in Hardin County, Kentucky. The soil was poor, the husbandman thriftless; the result was that the young family sank down into a more forlorn condition than ever before. Here in the very night of hope a male child was born, February 12th, 1809. This child was our Abraham Lincoln. We may well think that the mother, from the deep depression super- THE NEW MIGRATION. 35 induced by her environment, stamped upon her offspring as her fadeless birthmark that constitu- tional melancholy which everybody saw in his features and felt in his character. III. The New Migration. With the appearance of this infant coming into the world, if not in a manger, at least under almost as lowly circumstances, the light of the present biography has risen, to be followed till its setting. The boy's first playmate was his little sister, nearly two years older than himself, who was born during the stay at Elizabethtown. Thomas Lincoln, like the true rover, soon felt that prosperity was not where he was, but somewhere else, and must now be chased down for good. When his boy was about four years old, the father moved to another farm some fifteen miles distant, where fortune was again wooed. But success attended him in the new venture just as little as in the old ones, and for the same reason. Nomadic Tom Lincoln belongs really nowhere, and so he cannot find out where he belongs. An important step may be chronicled during the stay at this farm. The boy Abraham, with his sister was sent to his first school. He has himself transmitted the names of his two earliest teachers, Zachariah Riney and Caleb Hazel.. Only names 36 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. they are to us now, dim ghosts of wandering pedagogues on the frontier, but from these itin- erant masters young Lincoln first began the rudi- ments of the famous three disciphnes — reading, with possibly a little writing and ciphering. This started him so that he could help himself, and tradition states that he was a very capable learner at this early time. It has also been handed down that his mother taught him what she knew and encouraged him, telling him the stories of the Bible as well as the transmitted folk-tales of her people. With good reason she seems to have turned her teaching ambition from her husband to her son. Having failed on his second farm also, Thomas Lincoln began to think of leaving Kentucky. He had heard of the fertile and untaken territory across the Ohio River in the State of Indiana. As to his motives in making the change, we may cite his son's statement: "This removal was partly on account of slavery, but chiefly on account of the difficulty in land titles in Kentucky." Lincoln gave this account of his father in 1860, after his nomination for the Presidency, to be used in a campaign fife of himself. Hence the allusion to slavery is probably made as prominent as the truth permitted. The difficulty in land titles seems to have been this : Thomas Lincoln bought his farms on credit, giving promissory notes, secured by deeds of trust. The notes fell due and were not paid ; the THE NEW MIGRATION. 37 land reverted to the original owner and Thomas Lincoln had to vacate the premises. Such was "the difficulty in land titles," present not only in Kentucky but everywhere. The son could not well give any detailed explanation in a campaign document, and so passed it over with a small euphemism. The second cause assigned, that of slavery, has been sometimes emphasized beyonds its merits. Easy-going Tom Lincoln never exercised his rather sluggish brain much with the abhorrence of slavery. Still we are to see that it had an in- fluence upon his movements, even if such influence was mainly unconscious. Kentucky had received that early stream of migration from Mrginia, and had become pretty well settled while the States across the Ohio River were as yet largely un- touched. But with the growth of population slav- ery had grown, having now become "the peculiar institution," and was producing its well-known effects in begetting Classism and in degrading free labor. The result was that the white working man began to flee the State and to cross the Ohio River to a non-slaveholding territory, decreed such by the famous ordinance of 1787. Thus we find the Lincolns and the Hankscs, with many others, making a new turn in their long line of migration, and passing northward into the Free- States of Indiana and Illinois. For two genera- tions thej^ had lived in Slave-States, and had been 38 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. largely transformed into the poor white Southerner, illiterate and shiftless. There can be no doubt that slavery produced an unhoping lethargy in the white laborer, who, if any ambition was left in him, would cjuit the State, or if he stayed, would drop into a lower and more hopeless condition of life. Thus Thomas Lincoln was carried by a great tide of migration more than by his conscious purpose, though he deserves credit that he did not stay where he and his family were liable to sink deeper down into the social slough. Slavery may be deemed chiefly the cause of his departure, even though he was not fully aware of the fact, since he moved with the stream. So it came about that Thomas Lincoln, m the fall of 1816, was making preparation to go to Indiana. His procedure was unique. On a small neighboring run he built a flat-boat, loading it with his tools and with a cargo of four hundred gallons of whiskey, in which he saw a speculation based on the thirst of the Hoosiers. He floated down the run into a larger creek w^hich bore him into the Ohio River, in whose surly waters his rickety craft upset, his whole cargo plunging into the stream. He fished out his tools and a part ot the whiskey, fixed up his boat, and started again down the turbid current. At last he brought to, and pushed sixteen miles inland where he picked out a piece of primeval forest, and bought it from the Land Office at Vincennes. Then he trudged back THE NEW MIGRATION. 39 home to Kentucky and fetched his wife and children, with household effects. But he took this time a wagon, avoiding evidently the fiat-boat. At last he reached his new home on Little Pidgeon Creek in Spencer County, Indiana. Thus the Lincoln-Hanks line of migration has come north- ward into a Free-State — a little event which is destined to have a world-historical consequence. This line we have seen originally moving out of the North and making a long detour through Virginia and Kentucky, wherein, however, they were but drops in a great migratory current. It should be added, as a significant mark of the time and of the men, that both the brothers of Thomas Lincoln crossed the Ohio River out of the Slave- State into a Free-State — the one having gone before him into Indiana, and the other, the eldest and the heir of the house, having passed after him, into Illinois. Again let us ponder the epoch-making fact that Abraham Lincoln as a child was borne in that vast swirl of migration which once swept from the North into the more genial climate of the South, where it dashed upon an obstacle, slavciy, which seemed at first weak, if not vanishing, but which gradually became stronger and firmer till it at last deflected that migratory current, or a large part of it, around towards the North again, into the new States of the West. Slavery in the Revolutionary Period was regarded as moribund, but it took a new lease 40 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. of life, being galvanized chiefly by the invention of Whitney's cotton-gin (1793). Slavery and its profits increased enormously, but immigration de- creased; indeed, the ever-renewing human current turned away, quitting the South, to which it once mainly flowed, and bearing in its bosom North- ward young Abraham Lincoln, destined to be its greatest product and supreme representative. The spirit in this migratory separation from the South indicates at least dissatisfaction with the new trend there towards slavery. The Folk-Soul shows itself to be seeking the Free-State, and to be productive of the Free-State as its political institu- tion. This instinct, quite unconscious, lay in the movement to which Abraham Lincoln belonged, and in which he participated. Here we may catch an early glimpse of the Folk-Soul which he is finally to voice and to organize into a party whose conscious and expressed aim is to make the Union productive of Free States only. So we see that Lincoln simply uttered what had long been engendering and throbbing in the Folk-Soul of the West. We may well empahsize again that these immi- grants, having taken the Virginia dip, bore with them through all their wanderings her strong sense of institutions, as well as her deepest political principle, which may be designated as the State- producing State. Of this principle they were to become the propagators in peace as well as the THE INDIANA HOME. 41 vindicators in war. But on the other hand we must also take note that they turned away from Virginia as productive of Slave-States, notably in case of Kentucky, often called the child of Mrginia. Hence we see them wheeling out of Kentucky into the North-west, in which Mrginia had shown her other side, namely as productive of Free-States, and which accordingly corresponded with their own institutional character, fostered if not de- rived from the great creative period of Virginia and her statesmen. This was indeed the very soul of the North-w^est, being that which created it and remained its innermost nature. The Folk-Soul we call it, of which Lincoln became first the in- stinctive bearer, then the voice, and finally the instrument of its realization. IV. The Indiana Home. In the midst of the primeval forest Thomas Lin- coln began to build a shelter for his family during the inclement season which was at hand. This shelter was a cabin of unhewn logs, fourteen feet square, enclosed on three sides, the fourth side be- ing left open and serving for door and windows. It had no floor, and very little rude furniture; it was not called a house but a camp, " a half-face cam.p " in the dialect the backwoods. It resembled a built cave rather, and the family had a taste of 42 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST the primoruial cave-life of their remote ancestors. Thus Thomas Lincoln is getting back to his origin, and with his family is living over again an early- chapter in the life of his race, strangely carrying out some modern ideas of education. We must keep our eye upon young Abraham who, now in his eighth year, entered upon this new phase of his discipline. The physical environ- ment was here quite different from that which he had experienced in Kentucky. Around him on all sides stood the dense forest which had its own in- habitants — bear, deer, turkey, and smaller animals. Nature revealed herself to him in her wild, exuber- ant mood, being far more productive here than in the poorer soil of the Kentucky farm. The boy became a pioneer, an axe was put into his hands and he began with his parents the struggle for ex- istence on the border of civilization. Since its first settlement for two hundred years, America had reared a hardy and unique race of pioneers ; Abra- ham Lincoln is also to pass through this stage of his country's development, repeating the luck and lot of his own ancestors, and the experience will leave its mark upon him to the last. During a whole year the Lincoln family held their fortress, "the half-face camp", against the assaults of wind and rain, of snow and ice, thus maintaining its own amid all the weather caprices of winter and summer. Then a new cabin was ready, enclosed now on its fourth side, fully eigh- THE INDIANA HOME. 43 teen feet square, and built of hewn logs, think of it! Surely, careless Tom Lincoln is getting stylish if not extravagant. The old building, "the half- face camp ", is handed over to a new batch of emi- grants, relatives leaving Kentucky, atoms swim- ming in that migratory stream over the Ohio and dropping down in the Free-States of the North- West. Very striking is the fact that Kentucky at this time seems quite fully settled and overflowing, while just across the river in Indiana are the back- woods. It was indeed a straitened existence. Not much money was in circulation, trade fell back largely upon primitive barter. We hear that coon-skins passed for money, and that hams of the hog and deer were a legal tender. To get food was not so difficult, the neighboring woods furnished free meat for the human animal now growing more and more carnivorous. Abraham Lincoln reports that he shot a wild turkey through the chink of the cabin. The ground was cleared of its trees, and some grain was sown — enough for corn-dodgers and pone and hom- iny all the week, and for wheat cakes once a week, of Sunday mornings. As to clothing, the household could and often did furnish it from the fleece of wool, especially the linsey-wolsey shirt; deer skins were cut and sewed into a kind of rude shoe or moc- casin, as well as pantaloons; the winter overcoat of fur was robbed from the bear, and the coon fur- nished the head-gear for nothing. 44 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. Behold then that hfe of the young pioneer truly self-sufficing, independent. The three great op- pressors of man, food, raiment and shelter, are met by the man himself single-handed, and van- quished without calling to his aid the Social Sys- tem, the Economic Order. He builds his own house without the architect, makes his own cloth- ing without the tailor, gets his own food directly from Nature — surely an individual sufficient unto himself. The whole social process, now become so vast and intricate, is performed in that little cabin of the frontiersman, by himself and his family. No doubt it is the germinal process of civilization, which here the youthful Abraham has practically to appropriate in its primal simplicity and com- pleteness. And now let us picture our boy seizing hold of a peg fastened in the logs of the cabin wall; there is a row of these pegs running up to a kind of loft where is a pile of corn-shucks and leaves. This is the boy's bed, quite like that of the animals out- side in the woods. Covered with skins if it be cold weather, he takes his rest. When the time comes he skips down the pegs out of his nest and starts the morning blaze in the fire-place, by whose light he can often be seen taking furtive glances into a book which he cautiously draws from its hiding place in a chink, encouraged by his mother and perchance screened by her lest the irate father might interfere with the boy's studies. THE INDIANA HOME. 45 Such was the natural primitive Hfe of the Lin- coln family when a new enemy appeared. The demon of disease swooped down upon the little settlement and carried off many victims, not spar- ing the cattle. It was called the milk-sickness, and soon had in its clutches the mother of the household, Nancy Lincoln. There was no physician within thirty-five miles. The poor woman died and was buried in the most humble fashion by her husband, who made a rude cofhn out of green timber. The report runs that the son, still a boy, obtained a minister to perform the burial ceremo- nies over the grave of his mother some months afterward. This occurred in 1818. A year of motherlessness for the two children followed in that log cabin, during which the sister, then eleven years old, must have in part filled the missing place of the mother. So vanishes from the stage of life Nancy Hanks Lincoln, mother of Abraham Lincoln, deathless through the fame of her son, who seems hardly to have recognized her. As he was in his tenth year when she passed away, she must have nursed his earliest aspiration, and have directed his primal bent toward the acquisition of knowledge. Even her own husband, quite indifferent to learning, she taught to write his name, as tradition says; how much more effort would she naturally lavish upon her boy who certainly responded to her eagerness. 46 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. She imparted to him his first acquaintance with the Bible, instilling into him its precepts; also the tales of the Western People she tokl him with bits of family history during its great migration, of which record the woman is usually the depository and propagator. Lincoln was first spiritually shaped by his own mother during his childhood of nine years and more; yet he seemingly never ap- preciated fully the fact when he spoke of his early life. Time, however, has been doing justice to her part in the formation of her son, and even to her name, which has been clouded. Sympathetic hearts have found her lonely grave and fittingly marked its site, rescuing it from oblivion. Open- ing her weary eyes in that rude cabin for a final look at her husband and children; especially, one thinks, resting her last glance upon her boy, the mother of Lincoln turns her face to the wall and passes beyond. Like many a man born outside the common run of mortality, Lincoln brooded over his origin, and sometimes threw out wondering doubts as to whence he came. He differed much from all the Hankses whom he had ever known, and even more from his father Lincoln, shiftless, ignorant, unas- piring, with no limit-transcending impulse or capacity. That was and still is the mystery of his genius, for it is genius which breaks down the law of inheritance. Genius refuses to be derived from parents, or to be transmitted to children; it seems THE INDIANA HOME. 47 to drop down from supernal sources upon this one individual and then to take its flight beyond with the cessation of life. In the line of descent Genius has no father and leaves no son : a fact which seems to have worried v Lincoln and to have called up many a dubious speculation^ in regard to himself, conscious as he was of the divine gift. Now what- ever may be the case in Heaven, on earth the son of the divine father is not usually divine, but drops back into the terrestrial line of his grand- father. Property, disease, the Particular can be inherited, but not the Universal, which somehow insists upon selecting its own heir, quite apart from the ancestral strain, which may at most color in spots the God's presence. So- we behold the epiphany of Genius on our planet, wondering whence it comes and whither it goes; hardly more do we know than this, that the Great Man does get incarnated about the right moment, and if he be of a reflective bent, he will have many musings over his own incarnation. Biographer Herndon has repeatedly touched upon this tendency of Lincoln to peer into the abysses of his own being, which involved him in questionings and speculations, and even doubts about his parentage. To our mind it was his genius seeking to fathom the mystery of its own origin, which is quite unfathomable as to its finite appearance in Time. Ground, cause, even evolu- tion seem to break down in trying to catch and 48 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. circumscribe Genius in its descent into this indi- vidual just here and now. Lincoln, therefore, found it hard to account for himself on the spot, but the Future will unfold him and his work more and more, and that will be his true explana- tion. V. The Step-Mother. About a year after his wife's death, widower Thomas Lincoln seems to be brushing up a little, he is getting to pay some attention to his personal appearance. There is no perceptible cause for this change in the neighborhood of Little Pidgeon Creek. Having saved some money, one day he put on his best, and set out for Elizabethtown, Kentucky, the place where he spent some time as a young man learning his carpenter's trade. There is little doubt, though the record has not been handed down, that'on arriving he took the shortest road to the house of Mrs. Sallie Bush Johnston, now a widow, but whom as a young lady he had never forgotten. For, according to a tradition of the gossips of the town, he had been rejected by her in the days of their freedom. Set it down to the credit of Thomas Lincoln (for he needs it) that the spark of true love never died out in his bosom, but began to flicker and sputter, and finally to blaze up in the solitary life of his cabin. At last it impels him to take the aforesaid journey. THE STEP-MOTHER. 49 It is declared that Miss Sallie Bush and her family belonged to the better class of people, to the ''quality" of that Kentucky town. Our worthy reporter Herndon cites the statement of one of her neighbors evidently at first hand: ''Life among the Hankses and Lincolns was a long ways below life among the Bushes." These words have a smack of that class-pride which, proper enough in its limits, in its excess became the bane of Ken- tucky and of the whole South, and is usually re- garded as one of the effects of " the peculiar insti- tution." The hardy pioneers of the Common- wealth had little of it, but already it was at work in Kentucky during the second decade of the nine- teenth century, and in Virginia long before. The white non-slaveholding laborer felt and heard the contempt (perceptible slightly in the foregoing citation), picked up his belongings and quit the State for the north side of the Ohio river, where population, wealth and general development rapidly outstripped the new, though older slave States to the South. After a brief wooing Mrs. Johnston yielded. At first she is said to have hesitated, having three children on her hands from her first marriage and owing some debts which she wished to pay off first. Sly Thomas, getting a list of these debts, slips away and pays them the same evening. They could not have been large, seemingl}'- not much more than an excuse to stave ofT the importunate 50 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. suitor. But the transaction showed Lincoln's love, and when he shook the receipts in her face, she gave her hand in return, and the license was issued next morning. The marriage took place, whereat all the tongues of the town were set to wagging in a common refrain: Widow Johnston has married beneath her station. But she soon packed her household articles in a wagon and was speeding up the road for Indiana. What was it won the woman's heart? She loves his love rather than the man himself. She had a touch of aristocratic pride, and yet she descended to poor, unthrifty Tom Lincoln whom she knew well. Some have supposed that he deceived her by painting his Indiana prospects in too glowing colors. But she is not known to have manifested any great disappointment in that respect. It is the old story: the woman is taken by the man whose devotion conquers her, though she knows him to be of small account. So we may for a moment look at Thomas Lincoln as the hero of a sunny little idyl. And there is no doubt that in this woman he won the greatest prize of his life. The moment she stepped into that cheerless cabin of his, it began to be transfigured. She required the husband to show his devotion in a new way. Under her command he changes the dirt floor of his abode into one made of wood, and then he adds the hitherto missing doors and windows. She brought a quantity of good furniture and bedding; THE STEP-MOTHER. 51 notably "a walnut bureau valued at fifty dol- lars," probably an heirloom. She washed and dressed up her two step-children, and their nest of leaves and corn husks was changed for a comfort- able feather bed. Even the husband seemed to modify his character for the better under that fresh inspiration of the renovated household. So a woman, in her way heroic, comes into the life of young Abraham Lincoln, now in his eleventh year. Her difficulties were not small: among others two sets of children, boys and girls on each side, were growing up in that one-roomed cabin. There was a good opportunity for quarreling, also for mixing too freely. The evidence shows that the mother was aware of both dangers and guarded against them with success. The great fact now before us is that such a woman takes charge of the boy Abraham Lincoln, and becomes his second mother at a time when he needed a strong will to protect him in his striving. And the story must not be left untold that Sallie Bush after her first marriage remained on friendly terms with the Lincolns, and that she took a special liking to little Abe, bringing him to the store of Mr. Helm (who tells the tale) in Elizabeth- town for tidbits, and showing her fondness in vari- ous ways. All this must have occurred before the boy was past seven years old, and before the Lincolns had moved to Indiana. Already she may have divined his genius, and felt her deep relation 52 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. to that boy, deeper than any relation she had or could have to her own children. And that may have been the stronger though hidden motive to her surprising marriage. For time will prove that Abraham Lincoln was her soul's child by a tie more profound and coercive than consanguinity. She herself late in life thought so and said so amid tears for her martyred son, who, she foreboded, would never return alive from the Presidency. She was accustomed to declare that " my mind and Abe's ran together." Let Thomas Lincoln have the credit that he chose such a woman, who could love his love in spite of the man. But the interest of all time to come centers upon the part she had in the training of his boy, as she furnished the very sunlight in which his youth flowered. It is evident that the step-mother was far more active, aggressive, ambitious for appearance, through her higher standard of living, than the real mother, who comes before us as a jmtient, passive, much-enduring soul. She seems to take what comes, to accept her husband as he is with- out trying to transform him except in the one early instance of teaching him to write his name. Resignation was apparently her character and her religion. Emotion seems to have been her salient trait, which also went over into her boy. But now a very different sort of woman enters the too easy- going household, a woman of will, not however without kindness or sympathy. Under her train- THE STEP-MOTHER. 53 ing the youthful Abraham henceforth comes, seem- ingly at the right moment. She will impart to him purpose, strength, a new ideal of living. So we conceive the shares of the two mothers in the boy's development. They were not only dif- ferent but antipathetic; the step-mother showed not only her diverse nature, but her class prejudice against the mother. This is the one doubt which we have to record against the second Mrs. -Thomas Lincoln. We have to think that she influenced her step-son in his strange attitude toward his own mother, really a disregard for her memory. Without expanding further this dark but delicate point, let us pass to the bright side of the present relation, which reveals Mrs. Thomas Lincoln as the paragon of her kind. She belies all the proverbs, fairy-tales, and folk-lore of the ages which take delight in besmirching the step- mother. Difficult, indeed, is her task, and eveiy neighbor seems bent on making it more difficult. With such an accumulated burden on her hands she often fails, probably in the majority of cases. But the step-mother of Abraham Lincoln must be pronounced the great exception, under the most trying circumstances. She it was who nursed his genius when it most needed such care. Will she had, and a very strong one; this is what chiefly looks out in that face of hers which we see pictured in the books on Lincoln. Yet hers was a will tempered with duty, especially to that one member 54 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. of ner household, whose greatness she certainly forefelt. And his gratitude and recognition were unstinted. But that tender heart of his with its boundless sympathy, which lay even deeper than will, was the priceless gift of his mother, Nancy Hanks Lincoln. VI. Lincoln's Schooling, What inference shall we draw from Lincoln's slender means for getting even an elementary education? Have opportunities really become too great, so that they are undermining the self- reliance of our youth? Such statements we hear now and then. But we have to think that Lincoln was Lincoln in spite of the defects of his scholar- ship. He would have been the same and have done his work if he had possessed more or even less learning. His Apprenticeship would have con- tinued, till it had completed itself, if not this year then the next, or the next after that. The quantity of erudition is important, but not all-important. Geilius can make a little do, even if it has not much besides itself. Still it has to be unfolded, and has to have its favorable environment, which was not wanting in the case of Lincoln. He has handed down the names of his early teachers in the two brief sketches of liis life written by himself. Already we have mentionel his first schooling in Kentucky. What he acquired there LIXCOLX'S SCHOOLIXG. 55 is unknown; but it is likely that he, a bright boy in his seventh and eighth year, learned to read, and obtained a little start in figures and in writing, being assisted by his mother, who was likely to keep his lessons alive after arriving in the woods on Little Pidgeon Creek, Indiana. Not till he was ten years old did he go to his next school, the first one for him in his new home, kept by a teacher of the name of Dorsey. Four years more passed before he could get to another itinerant master, Andrew Crawford, who in addi- tion to the customary branches, gave to those backwoods children lessons in good manners, not without insight into their needs. Lincoln was now fourteen years old, and made the most of his oppor- tunities, getting probably the longest and best spell of his schooling. Three years later he started to go to Master Swaney's, but he had to walk over four miles, and he soon stopped or was stopped by his father, who wanted him for work, and who thought that so much learning was unnecessary, as he had gotten along without it. Or it might positively ruin the boy, for young Abraham had had already gained the double reputation of being both lazy and a student. In fact, to obtain what education he had, a con- tinual struggle had been going on in the household, the step-mother always protecting and encouraging her step-son, whom she soon regarded as her Heaven-sent ward. Since she lived till 1869, and 56 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. was visited and questionea oy investigators, she has left on record some suggestive glimpses into the early life of the Lincolns in Indiana, particu- larly as regards the schooling of young Abraham. Says she: "I induced my husband to permit Abe to study at home as well as at school. At first he was not easily reconciled to it, but finally he too seemed willing to encourage him to a certain extent." That is, the wife in that noisy unstudious household is gently but firmly asserting herself in favor of the studious child, though but her step-son, in whom she saw such talent and aspiration. Then she continues: ''Abe was a dutiful son to me always, and we took particular pains not to disturb him — would let him read on and on till he quit of his own accord." She com- manded quiet to the domestic uproar made by four other children and several grown people usually, so that the only person of hope among them might get his lesson and prepare himself for his work. Another precious bit from the same source has been preserved, expressing the deep sympathy, the concordance of soul between the two: "Abe was a good boy and I can say what scarcely one woman — a mother — can say in a thousand: Abe never gave me a cross word or look, and never refused in fact or appearance, to do anything I requested him. I never gave .him a cross word in my life." She felt him to be her son, her spiritual child: LINCOLN'S SCHOOLING. 57 "His mind and mine — what little I had — seemed to run together." There is no doubt that she regarded it her chief vocation to be mother to that boy, who was hers by a deeper tie than blood. Far more than her own son and her other children was this step-son hers, though she touches the fact tenderly: "I had a son John who was raised with Abe. Both were good bays; but I must say, both being dead now, that Abe was the best boy I ever saw, or expect to see." So the mother looks back at her two boys living still in the Little Pidgeon Creek home; she judges both in the most affec- tionate way, but decides absolutely in favor of her step-son. The truth is, John Johnston, her son, was a good-natured, good-for-nothing ne'er- do-weel, who, during his life gave trouble enough to his mother and to Lincoln through his ineradi- cable vagrancy. "You are not lazy and still you are an idler," says Lincoln in a keen and kind letter to him, proposing an excellent recipe for the trouble {Works, I., p. 164). In this connection may be cited those deep- toned utterances gushing spotancously from the mother's heart, whose preservation we owe to Herndon. "I did not want Abe to run for Presi- dent, and did not want to see him elected. I was afraid that something would happen to him. And when he came down to see me after he was elected President, I still felt, and my heart told me, that something would befall him, and that I should 58 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. never see him again." Not many passages in literature well up from sources so deep and pure as that. And it may be added that Lincoln him- self had the same ever-lurking premonition of his fate. Clear it is without the strong will of that sym- pathetic step-mother standing guard for him, Lincoln would never have had the chance to go to school on Little Pidgeon Creek, and no opportunity for study at home. He was now a robust youth and could do a good deal of heavy work, from which his father could draw some profit. But the step-mother, clearly the will-power of the family, interfered in behalf of his education. We have to think that the real mother, with her passive emotional character, could have hardly shielded him against the opposition. She was given him when he was a little child, before his labor counted for anything. But it was the step- mother who bestowed upon him his teens for study, really the most fruitful time for acquisition. Lincoln deeply recognized the sterling character of his step-mother, and knew her place in the evolu- tion of his career. Of his father he did not and could not have a high opinion. Nor could any great affection spring from paternal treatment which rose to the point of giving a knock-down to the boy, if report can be credited. So uncongenial a diversity in temperament, in talent, in aspiration, seems to have excited at times in Lincoln those LINCOLN'S SCHOOLING. 59 vague questionings in regard to his origin, with which he often played as a mental toy. But the stranger fact is that Abraham Lincoln was the spiritual son of his step-mother, whose school was far better for him, and more deeply influential than all his other schooling. We must also observe the fact that his step- mother was not only his protectress in the home, and exemplar in character, but directly his teacher, his critic, his first sympathetic audience. Herein again she has left a naive but very touching record : "Frec^uently," says she, "he had no paper to write his pieces down on. Then he would put them with chalk on a board or plank, sometimes only making a few signs of what he intended to write. When he got paper, he would copy them, alwaijs bringing them to me and reading them. He would ask my opinion of what he had read,'^ wliich was his own composition, and for which he desired some appreciative listener and judge. Thus she encouraged him to train himself in the written word, nursing his genius in that lowly cabin with love and recognition. This was altogether his best school, opening in his home when he was eleven years old and closing at twenty-one. Thus the supreme fact of Abraham Lincoln's youth was his apprenticeship to his step-mother, lasting a good ten years, during the formative and mentally acquisitive time of life. Here he began to win through practice that literary sense which speaks 60 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. directly to the hearts of the people, and in which he stands without a rival. For we can now see that the words of Abraham Lincoln are destined to be read and pored over far more than those of any other American writer by the people, not merely of his own land, but of all lands. He has voiced the Folk-Soul at the most critical turn of its evolution hitherto recorded in History. Ad- dressing his early words to that responsive step- mother in that otherwise unappreciative environ- ment, and winning her applause, he is getting ready to speak to his vaster audience, that of his Nation, and finally that of the Ages. VII. The Printed Page. Lincoln is credited with saying that "he had read through every book he had ever heard of in that country for a circuit of fifty miles." This innocent boast, even if exaggerated, expresses a fact which the biographic interpreter of Lincoln's career must throw into a strong and steady light. It illustrates strikingly his eagerness to get hold of the wisdom of the past stored in and handed down to him by the Printed Page. Many other anecdotes corroborative of the same over-mastering impulse are recorded concerning him, and set forth his omnivorous appetite for reading books. Few youths have ever shown so strong an innate THE PRINTED PAGE. 61 delight in devouring print, especially under such adverse circumstances, as did Lincoln. Books were his University in which he took a unique course, truly universal. Very different is the satiety which at present is apt to come upon the boy struggling distractedly through the deluge of typography, which pours upon him from every direction. But Lincoln had to hunt for the book he read, and often he made considerable journeys to borrow it for a brief time. It was a real treasure when he obtained it, and a privilege to peruse its contents. He came to have a love for the Printed Page, and was drawn to it irresistibly as the source of light to his career, as the very beacon of the past illuminating his way to the future. He pursued his bent obstinately in spite of a good deal of jealousy and disparagement manifested in his own household. Said a relative, Dennis Hanks, to an interviewer: " Lincoln was lazy, a very lazy man. He was always reading, scribbling, cipher- ing, writing poetry and the like," which Dennis deemed rank idleness. Always intellectually active the youth was, in spite of sneers at his laziness from everybody except his step-mother. Quite a little course of study he was taking, all to himself, blazing his way as he went along. Bodily activity alone was appreciated in that community of farmers, who knew muscular work, but not mental. Not much oral instruction did he ever receive, his knowledge came not through the ear but 62 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. through the sight absorbing the Printed Page. Thus he would become his own teacher and drill himself in what was for him the best. Here again we may listen to the report of the observant step-mother: "When he came across a passage that struck him, he would write it down on boards if he had no paper, and keeplt there till he did get paper. Then he would re-write it, look at it, repeat it. He had a copy-book, a kind of scrap- book, in which he put down all things and thus preserved them " for review, comparison, repeti- tion. Thus the Printed Page is appointed Abra- ham Lincoln's Professor, very capable indeed, being able to impart to him the best thoughts of the best men of all ages. Let us also note the educative value involved in this process. Not simply ear-minded, but also eye-minded he be- comes, and from the immediate transitory voice of an instructor he rises to the lasting word of the Printed Page, which act is both a great training in itself and gives the chief means for all other training. Plainly Lincoln is making his own University and is Head Tutor to himself. It is well known that many persons who can read print, find difficulty in getting its meaning till this be voiced to them. They are not truly masters of the Printed Page, and cannot use it fully. In contrast with such persons stands Lincoln who seemed to have a native lordship over the Printed Page, and an inborn love of it, easily making THE PRINTED PAGE. 63 it unlock its treasures to him already in the back- woods. This matter once understood, it can be no sur- prise to learn that his appetite for reading books was insatiable. Only thus could he break out of his narrow life at Little Pidgeon Creek, and com- mune with the great world everywhere and at all times. Unanimous is the recorded opinion of all who knew him that he was a genius limit-trans- cending, and only through the Printed Page could he reach beyond his cooped-up environment. Let us copy a homely but very striking picture of him while engaged in this phase of his career, originally drawn by a fellow-laborer: "When Abe and I returned to the house from work, he would go to the cupboard, snatch a piece of corn bread, sit down, take a book, cock up his legs as high as his head and read. We grubbed, plowed, mowed and worked together bare-footed in the field," This attitude of repose somewhat modified remained his favorite one for reading and meditation during life. It was the image of concentration, his long limbs were compelled to send their blood brain- ward, and his body made no demands, being fully relaxed into a total lack of all dignity. Unceasing was his effort to win the treasures of the Printed Page: "Whenever Abe had a chance in the field while at work or at the house, he would stop and read". So says one witness of these early days; another declares: "He lost no time at home, 64 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. and when he was not at work he was at his books", of which he seems to have always commanded a small supply. The boy could not stop : "He kept up his studies on Sunday and carried his books with him to work so that he might read when he rested from labor". Going home from his task in the field, he would sit on the rail fence, draw out his book and begin to read, not being able to wait till he reached the house, or thinking, if he did, that old Tom would have a scene with him about book-learning. In that position he was once ob- served by two men passing, when one of them ut- tered the prophecy of his future greatness, which has been more than verified, as he sat "on the top of an old-fashioned stake and rider worm fence" utterly oblivious of their approach through absorp- tion in a book. Old-time country people, however, deemed this mental industry of Lincoln to be a makeshift for getting rid of work. That was the theory of the father who, however, was strongly counteracted by the opposite view of the step-mother. Young Lin- coln was unfavorably contrasted with his sister Sally: "She was more industrious than Abe", re- ports one of their common acquaintances. But the richest statement comes from a neighboring farmer: "He worked for me but was always read- ing and thinking. / used to get mad at him for it. I say he was awfully lazy. He would laugh and talk, crack jokes and tell stories all the time; didn't THE PRINTED PAGE. 65 love work half as much as his pay". So speaks through the reporter old John Romine, the surly agriculturist, in whose words we still feel the heat of many a scolding and squabble through the long intervening years. But he probably never tackled physically young Abraham, an athlete whose strength was bruited about the neighborhood as equal to that of three ordinary men. There is no doubt, too, that Lincoln did a fair day's task, being able to strike a heavier blow with a maul, and make an axe bite deeper into a tree than any known man of that region. But the surly agricul- turist, with an eye to tliiift, wanted him to do more, and to stop his "reading and thinking" — and so sends this amusing growl down time. This intense longing to probe the secrets of the Printed Page as the very tahsman of his destiny may well have begun decidedly in his tenth year when he received his second great lift in educa- tion at the school of Master Dorsey. All this was confirmed and intensified with Master Crawford, when he was fourteen years old and more ready to receive everything that his teacher had to give. He was the best speller in that country, and at the spelling matches, whichever side chose him, was deemed to have won already without any further contest. He also learned to write a good hand, characteristically clear and definite. Both his spelling and his chirography, acquired at this time, 66 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST he retained to the last, familiar now to millions and destined to be so to milliards. The pedagogue will not fail to be interested in the training which comes from spelling as the analysis of the word into its sounds, each of which has its visible sign. The teacher with spelling- book in hand voices the seen word which the speller transmutes into its elements, letter by let- ter, and syllable by syllable. Lincoln is said to have had the habit of reading aloud to himself. He wished to hear the thought voiced as well as to see it printed — to hear it as well as to eye it. Primordially man is a listener rather than a reader. Lincoln, like many people, was both. Spelling is the connective between the spoken word and the printed word, and trains the mind to pass easily from one to the other. Lincoln's mastery of the Printed Page was furthered by his early excellence in spelling. Another tendency in Lincoln, and one very im- portant for his education, was that of reproducing in writing whatever took hold of him strongly. He made copious extracts in his copy-book and repeated the passages. He carried with him a piece of chalk for writing and ciphering on any flat surface he might come upon, such as boards and hewn logs. The cabin home was covered with his scribblings. Nor did he stop with the departure of sunlight. A favorite position in the evening was to lie on his stomach before the fireplace and with THE PRINTED PAGE. 67 a piece of charcoal to cipher upon a broad wooden shovel. When dawn would begin to peep through a chink in his loft, he would get up and start to reading, copying, or perchance composing. These attempts at composition should be noted, espe- cially as they were voluntary, and indicated his spontaneous bent toward a literary utterance. He wrote little essays, made chronicles upon local events in scriptural style and scribbled doggrels. He imitated all fonns of expression within his reach : he would thump the table and preach a sermon from a text in the Bible after the manner of the preacher ; he would make a political speech, and actually wrote an article on temperance which was published in a newspaper. Notable is it that as a boy he composed an essay on his life-long theme, the Union and Constitution, of which a local lawyer, not otherwise famous, declared: "The world can't beat it", and procured its pub- hcation. Thus our young Abraham has beheld himself reproducing the marvelous Printed Page — not only reading it when made by others but actually making it himself. So far did his mastery of it proceed there in the backwoods, that he began to be creative of it by his own native power, and doubtless to glimpse its place in his training. 68 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. VIII. Folk-Books. Having made real to ourselves the youthful Lin- coln's wonderful mastery of the Printed Page, we next inquire about what he read. What were the books and their general character which exerted a formative power upon him at this period? The answer may be given: chiefly the Folk-Books of the race. These nourished his growing spirit, and also gave him a form of expression for reaching the Folk-Soul, wherein lay his supreme vocation as well as his unique power. Lincoln's library was largely borrowed. It would seem that he never owned such a common text-book as an arithmetic; at least his step- mother declared in response to an inquirer that she could not recollect that he ever possessed one in his own right. But every man, woman and child in the neighborhood would loan a book to the kind-hearted, aspiring boy whom all loved and admired. Still Lincoln 'must at last have gotten together a few books of his own. There is a story about his becoming the owner of Weems' Ldfe of Washington. He had borrowed it from a churlish old neighbor, afterward satirized as Blue Nose Crawford, and was reading it when one night a storm came up and the rain beat in through a chink of the Lincoln cabin, damaging the covers of the book. The owner put his loss at seventy-five FOLK-BOOKS. 69 cents, which Lincoln, having no money, had to pay him in work, being required to pull fodder three days for the costs. We may suppose that he then owned the book (though our record does not expressly say so), and perused it many times with boyish delight in its hero. Those three fod- der-pulling days turned out the most profitable of Lincoln's youth, giving him the printed portraiture which shaped for him his American ideal. This book had been adopted by the People of that time as their Life of Washington, veritably a Folk- Book, with its commingling of fact, fable, anec- dote, overcanopied with providential guidance and preservation of the Hero. Already we have alluded to it as an influence in Lincoln's career (see Intro- duction), who noticed it upon a public occasion. Also we may say that this book helped to make him acquainted with the American Folk-Soul, of which he was then an unconscious atom, but of which he was to become the guide and the utter- ance in the sorest trial it ever yet has undergone. As all Peoples have regarded their heroes as semi- divine, so Lincoln took the popular view of Wash- ington, looking back to him as a kind of demi-god. And when his own great world-historical task dawned upon him, he could not help coupling it with that of Washington, which had been so im- pressively set forth to his youthful imagination in the Folk-Book of Pastor Weems. We observe that most of our biographers of Lincoln speak very 70 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. apologetically of this Folk-Book and of Lincoln's devotion to it; but we cannot help saying to them and to ourself: Make, scribbler, your life of Lincoln equal in influence to the work of Weems, and, having the Hero, write a new American Folk- Book, if you can. Another text-book in this School of the People, which he read often and committed to memory, apparently owning a copy, was JEsop's Fables. The animal world in the midst of which the youth was placed, both tame and wild products of farm and forest, was made to convey lessons of homely wis- dom and morality to the popular mind. The old Greek fabulist had the power of making the beasts of the field and the birds of the air talk to one an- other and to man, with whom they were so closely associated. ^Esop also spoke to the Folk-Soul of his own time and of all time, and we can see Lincoln listening to him and catching his trick, his manner, and appropriating it for coming use in addressing that same Folk-Soul. Here we cite a striking instance of Lincoln play- ing JEsop to Grant, who has just been appointed Lieutenant-General, and is not to repeat M'Clellan in command of the army of the Potomac. The President began fabling: "At one time there was a great war among the animals, and one side had great difficulty in getting a commander who had sufficient confidence in himself. Finally they found a monkey by the name of Jocko, who said that he FOLK-BOOKS. 71 thought he could command their army if his tail could be made a little longer. So they got more tail and spliced it on to his caudal appendage. He looked at it admiringly and then thought he ought to have a little more still. This was added, and again he called for more. The splicing process was repeated many times, until they had coiled Jocko's tail all around the room, filling all the space. Still he called for more tail, and, there being no other place to coil it, they began wrapping it around his shoulders. He continued calling for more, and they kept on winding the additional tail about him until its weight broke him down." Grant saw the point, so he declares, and left the president with the determination not to play the part of tail-encumbered Jocko. (The foregoing fable has been declared to be an adaptation from Orpheus C. Kerr.) Another of Lincoln's Folk-Books was Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, which opened to him a new literary form highly popular and cognate with the fable, that of the allegory. There is no doubt that its content also appealed to him powerfully, since it reflects the conflicts of the inner life which was so much cultivated by Lincoln's early Quaker ances- tiy. He showed through his whole career a per- vasive moral consciousness, which, even if native to the man, was nourished by reading this old Puritan Folk-Book, truly a teacher of the people. Lincoln was by nature a symbolist in the wide sense of the 72 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. term, uttering himself in a variety of symbols — metaphor, anecdote, story, fable, allegory — all of which he used more or less dexterously, with an in- ner purpose or meaning in the outer form. This is what he meant by requiring a nub (as he called it) to a story, which was not to be merely a running narrative, idealess, pointless, nubless. Bunyan's allegory is very transparent, and its charm is that it runs double so easily that the humblest mind gets the nub to it from the start. Another Anglo-Saxon Folk-Book of a very dif- ferent strain from that of Bunyan, fell into young Lincoln's hands, the well-known Robinson Crusoe. Here is the story of the adventurous pioneer, who is cast on a solitary island, and has to draw out of himself and re-make his whole social and institu- tional world. To be sure the hero brings it along within himself, but he has to get it outside. In the very process of such a life Lincoln was placed on the frontier of Indiana, to be sure not wholly alone. Still he could not help seeing Robinson Crusoe en- acted before him, while he was himself a partici- pant. The book made him conscious of an import- ant phase of his existence there in the woods, and thus educated him to know his environment and himself in it. Crusoe is a glorification of the self- reliant, self-sufficing individual, and hence ap- peals mightily to the American backwoodsman as self-helper and institution-maker. Interesting is the fact that some educators have introduced it FOLK-BOOKS. 73 into the schools of the people, making it a center or core of correlation for other branches. Well, Lincoln had it first in his school, in which he was both the teacher and the taught. In this list of Folk-Books accessible to young Lincoln we should by no means omit the Bible which is in itself a whole literature endowed with a unique power over the people. We know — for it still exists — ^that in Thomas Lincoln's cabin was a copy of this greatest of Folk-Books performing its peculiar function to the English race, especially to the hardy pioneers of this race in America, who were through it baptized and re-baptized in the God-consciousness of that old Semitic stock. Abraham Lincoln's own given-name was taken from one of its chief worthies, also a pioneer, and had descended through a line of ancestral Lincolns. His grandfather Abraham had two brothers called Igaac and Jacob, which hints the strong Hebraiz- ing spirit started by the Reformation and continued by the Puritans in Old and New England whence it migrated with the emigrants to the backwoods. There has been no little controversy over the re- ligious views of Lincoln. It can not be gainsaid that scriptural allusions and citations run through his entire works. The Christian dogmas seem not to have taken hold of him so strongly, but the God- consciousness as set forth in the Old Testament was never wanting to him, and its power over him in- creased to the end of his life. It reaches its cul- 74 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. mination in his last Inaugural spoken a few weeks before his death. The strong Hebrew tinge in this document, and the citations from' scripture con- tained in it, carry us back to. his youth when that Folk-Book must have been the chief element of his culture, — lisped first at his mother's knee and then rehearsed in his Indiana home. The main theme of his last Inaugural is God and God's justice uttered with the rapture and rhythm of the old Hebrew prophet: "Yet if God wills that it (the war) continue until all the wealth piled by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years of un- requited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with lash shall be paid by another drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still it must be said: ' The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.' " Thus Lincoln's youthful reading lay in the line of the great Folk-Books which have been hallowed by the people for ages. This was the early litera- ture which trained his way of thinking and expres- sion, and also stored his mind with no small amount of popular lore. We may call it the literature of the Folk-Soul in which Lincoln so deeply partici- pated, and through which he reached far back into the spiritual unfolding of the race. For we see on this list a Semitic, a Greek, an Anglo-Saxon, and specially a Puritan Folk-Book — a kind of summa- tion of the popular culture of the Occidental world. It would seem that Lincoln had his living ex- FOLK-BOOKS 75 emplar and instructor in the art of story-telling. Tradition has handed down the name of John Baldwin, the Village Blacksmith of Gentryville, as the champion story-teller of the settlement. Little Abe would "slip off to his shop and sit and listen to him by the hour/' with a childish delight in the art which touched his deepest chord, and which he would then practice on others, till finally he began to enter the lists with the blacksmith himself. From the stock then laid up he is said to have drawn in the Presidential Mansion, so that "statesmen, plenipotentiaries, and famous com- manders have many times made the White House ring with their laughter over the quaint tales of John Baldwin, the blacksmith." (Lamon.) But it was not Lincoln's ambition nor his des- tiny to make a Folk-Book. Anecdote, story, joke- cracking and yarn-spinning were but a means of bringing a great principle and a great duty home to the people, that they fulfil their world-historical purpose. Of course the youth Lincoln was uncon- scious of any such motive, as were also the people of that time. Still it lay implicitly in the Folk- Soul of the West already, as we have seen in tracing the secret impelling cause of their migration from South to North, from the Slave-State to the Free- State, in which our Abraham Lincoln profoundly participated. What, then, has Lincoln to say ultimately to his people? He must speak what lies deepest in 76 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. him, and that is institutional. The American State or the Federal Union is getting ready for a great change in its polity; it is under training to pass from its dualism of being and producing two antagonistic kinds of States, slave and free, to the unity of being and producing one kind only, and that the Free State. In this mighty institutional transition lurks the very soul of Lincoln, who is destined to be its supreme representative and protagonist. For such a task he is also to be trained even in these youthful days on Little Pidgcon Creek, and the strange fact comes to light that a book drops down upon him, as it were, just about when he is mature enough to begin to understand its theme. This book we may call a Book of Institutions, by way of contrast with the before- mentioned Folk-Books, these being after all but an instrument of utterance for Lincoln's institu- tional spirit, which is the deepest fact of him, of his people, and of his age. This fact with its cor- responding Printed Page, is what must next be considered. IX. The Book of Institutions. So now, in the course of Lincoln's youthful apprenticeship, another book falls into his hands, very different from the Folk-Books just set forth. He is to learn the political institutions of his coun- try and to master their expression, which is not THE BOOK OF INSTITUTIONS, 77 symbolic but legal. The people of the United States have to understand the law, and in a degree to talk its speech, for they are the lawmakers who are to govern themselves through their institutions. This is one of the most unique things of the coun- try. The American Folk-Soul is and has to be legal-minded, for it must vote on legislation and even may have to remake its Constitution, which it once made. This legal-mindedness Lincoln must also begin to acquire in his early years, if he is going to participate fully in the popular conscious- ness. In order to bring this new strain of the American Folk-Soul home to himself through the Printed Page, he borrowed from friendly Mr. David Turnham of Gentryville, a book which prob- ably gave him his bent in life, and started him toward his true vocation. So important is this book for marking an epochal turn in Lincoln, that we shall transcribe its title-page entire, which is also a kind of table of contents. "T/ie Revised Laws of Indiana, adopted and en- acted by the General Assembly at their eighth session. To which are prefixed the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution of the United States, the Constitution of the State of Indiana, and sundry other documents connected with the Political History of the Territory and State of In- diana. Arranged and published by authority of the General Assembly, Corydon, 1824." Besides the documents mentioned the book contained the 78 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. Act of Virginia in 1783 conveying the North-West- ern Territory to the United States,, and the Ordi- nance of 1787 prohibiting slavery in the same Ter- ritory. Rightly this may be called an Institutional Folk- Book of the North-West, which every State might make and print, but which no people ever before had or could have, in the World's History. Lincoln in his eighteenth year gets it, starts to studying it and discussing it with intelligent friends. He learns the distinctive character of his Nation from this peculiar Folk-Book, very different from those European Folk-Books which have been already considered, and which have certainly trained him to popular utterance and have given him many a help for attaining his supreme end. Still they are not that end nor do they have it as their content. We have thus seen Lincoln's preparation for getting acquainted with the Folk-Soul and for talking its language. Already he has tested him- self by little addresses to crowds with story, anec- dote, humor; he has likewise made some brief stump-speeches, in these days. A newspajoer from Louisville was furnished to him by a friend, and he devoured that, which brought him into di- rect connection with the political questions of the day. In 1828 he was an ardent politician at an election of Andrew Jackson. A history of the United States is also set down as one of the books of his little library. THE BOOK OF INSTITUTIONS. 79 In 1820 occurred the great struggle on the ques- tion of slavery going into the territories. The whole country was in commotion, the Union was threatened. The agitation was specially strong in the West, which was most deeply concerned. Lin- coln, though a boy of only eleven, must have heard a good deal of it, and in his young brooding soul have pondered the two sides. Certainly he then became fully aware of the great issue between slav- ery and anti-slavery, which was likewise to be the great issue of his life. The Missouri Compromise settled the excitement for many years, but it broke out again furiously during Lincoln's mature age, and gave him the key-note of his career. But the conflict between the expansion and the restriction of slavery he must have heard already in 1820, and have obtained some dim premonition of what it all meant. In Lincoln's part of Indiana, the South-Western, near Kentucky, there were some slaves at this time, (the census of 1820 gives 192 slaves for the whole State). Thus the question was a practical one which everybody discussed and took sides upon. The Indiana Supreme Court in 1821 decided against slavery and ended the ques- tion. We can see that Lincoln's boyhood was passed in the presence of much disputation about the legal and moral aspects of slavery. Especially was the spread of it to new territory a much-mooted problem. When some eight years later Lincoln got hold 80 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. of the before-mentioned Revised Laws of Indiana with the precious collection of national documents therein contained, he was able to take a new and ^deeper grasp of the great coming task of his people and of himself. He was drinking at the sources. Let us briefly summarize these documents, and their main contents. (1) The Declaration of Independence — the first great assertion of national- ity on the part of the American People together with the grounds of separation from the mother country; (2) The Constitution of the United States — the organization of the Union, the greatest political document the world has yet seen ; (3) The Constitution of the State of Indiana — the. organ- ization of the single State of the Union, as de- rived, wherein the Federal Constitution is seen to be State-producing; (4) The Ordinance of 1787, con- taining the clause prohibiting slavery in the North- Western Territory, ever memorable for its conse- quences, as wei] as for the use that Lincoln made of it in his speeches. The same clause has in it the first Fugitive Slave law, which grants the right of reclaiming fugitives "from whom labor or service is lawfully claimed in any one of the original States" — which has also a great history before it, as well as much to do with Lincoln'ac future-; (5) The statutes of Indiana or the laws made by the Legislature under the Constitution of the State — in studying which he will begin to- grow into his vocation of lawyer nnd its peculiar terminology. THE BOOK OF INSTITUTIONS. 81 In that Book of Institutions was also con- tained Virginia's cession in 1783 of the North- Western territories, which were to be formed into new States, one being Indiana. In this act of cession lay much — nothing less than that the Union is to be State-producing. The Constitution was not yet in existence, and the Federal Union was not yet formed; still this deepest spirit of it was at work, being chiefly derived from Virginia, who, however, transfers her State-producing power to the General Government, then the Confedera- tion. Lincoln had personally the same derivation, and had also its political instinct which made him completely one and harmonious with the derived Free-States of the North-West. It has been transmitted by the testimony of several people that Lincoln read this new Institu- tional Folk-Book with great zest and industry, and was in the habit of repeating and explaining its contents. It must have taken him a good while to master it, for it was clothed in wholly different speech from the other Folk-Books which he knew. He had to master its legal nomenclature, and doubtless put many a question about it to its owner, Mr. Davitl Turnham of Gentiyville. The hardest book he had ever read, but he persists, for that is one of his earliest and strongest traits. "When a mere child, I used to get irritated," says he, "when anybody talked to me in a way I could not understand. I do not think I ever got angry 82 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. at anything else in my life." He would chafe in wrath at the limit of ignorance, and proceed to surmomit it like the stormer of a fortress. We may well suppose that this new book called forth many a fit of noble indignation. Mighty was the provo- cation of what he did not know, and the seemingly impossible charmed and enraged him, the limit- transcending youth. It is manifest that Lincoln was led by this law- book into a new world. He passed from the fable, parable, allegory, the realm of poetry and the sym- bol, into the dry abstractions of the law; he was appropriating the garment of Justice whose lan- guage his task was to learn. Doubtless he felt or soon began to feel the life beneath all these colorless forms — a training in pure intelligence — though plumped down into it seemingly by chance, all of a sudden. It gave direction to his life, to his career, not immediately but after some years. Already at that time he expressed to a lawyer from whom he borrowed legal works to read at home, a desire to study law, but said that his parents were so poor that they must have the fruits of his labor. This early aspiration will be fulfilled when his dis- cipline for such a task is completed. There is little doubt that Lincoln during this period begins to get a glimpse of what he is to be at some time in the future. Already he makes political speeches to the boys. He wrote a compo- sition on the American Government, "calling at- THE BOOK OF INSTITUTIONS. 83 tention to the necessity of preserving the Union and perpetuating the Constitution," a strange early- prelude of his latest deed. He attended lawsuits before the local justice-of-the-peace, and often walked to the county-seat to see the larger trials in the court-room, and k) hear the lawyer ad- dress with eloquence the gentlemen of the jury. So he beholds what he is to be hereafter, and pre- enacts his own vocation in a small way. Out of the Institutional Folk-Book he could and probably did acquire a complete view of the system of the American government, which is there given in original documents. How the Union works, how the Single-State works, its relation to and origin from the Union, as well as its own sphere of government, may be drawn from the compilation. The youth gets acquainted with the political insti- tutions of his country in the original forms which create them and keep them going, of course through the people. Already he has had some experience of them, he knows of elections, stump-speaking and of laws. In 1828 when he was nineteen years old, there was a Presidential campaign and much dis- cussion, in which constitutional questions were handled. Thus Lincoln could see those bare ideal forms of law take on life and action, exemplifying what he had learned. Moreover he sees by the campaign and its speeches that it is just these abstract principles which must be explained to the People, who cannot 84 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST, SO readily grasp such intricate legal formulas. Here comes-in the use of what he has elsewhere learned — anecdote, fable, parable, humorous illus- tration. The institutional world must be brought home to the Folk-Soul that the latter perpetually recreate and keep alive and active the former, and thus preserve freedom. The People must indeed be governed, but that government must be its own through Law and Constitution, both of which it ultimately makes. Now Lincoln was in every fibre of his being an institutional man, which trait may well have started to grow into his character consciously with the study of the foregoing Book of Institutions. The early germinal Lincoln has been well out- lined by one of his boyish comrades: "When he (Lincoln) appeared in company, the boys would cluster around him to hear him talk. Lincoln was figurative in his speech, talks and conversation. He argued much from analogy and explained things hard for us to understand by stories, tales, figures. He would almost always point his lesson or idea by some story that was plain and near us, that we might instantly see the force and bearing of what he said." Thus we behold Lincoln as a boy explaining the difficult idea which he had gained, to his little group of people, truly the embryo of the great and greatest Lincoln when he reached the height of interpreting and thereby mediating the AVorld-Spirit with the Folk-Soul. THE BOOK OF INSTITUTIONS. 85 Of this supreme function of his we shall have much to say hereafter; at present we are to watch his preparation. In explaining dry points of law to his comrades, he was on the way to address the gentlemen of the jury, over whom his power in a ,good cause became irresistible. Still further, he had to make clear to the greatest of all juries, the people, the nature of the Dred Scott decision, and to win a favorable judgment — wherein he had a unique success. Lincoln has corroborated this character of him- self in a reminiscence of his boyhood. The mighty impulse we see driving him ; he must know and then be able to tell what he knows— two very different things by the way, and often wholly disjoined. He declares that "I could not sleep, when I got on hunt for an idea, until I had caught it," that is, until he had made it his own in knowledge. But that is not all: "When I thought I had got it I was not satisfied until I had repeated it over and over," — this repetition is noteworthy, being pro- foundly educational. And still further, his dis- satisfaction continued "until I had put it in lan- guage plain enough for any boy I knew to compre- hend." He must impart what he has won by thought, bringing it down to the level of his audi- ence. Moreover "this was a kind of passion with me," as a boy "and it has stuck by me" as a man, "for I am never easy now when I am hand- ling a thought till I have bounded it" on all .silc?, 86 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. thus making it definite and clear not only to my- self, but also to my audience. Ardently, passionately, Lincoln we behold in his youth educating himself for his supreme future vocation. In this self-education we should note the three things upon which he puts stress: Ac- quisition of the idea, its expression, and then its impartation. He is not simply to get and form- ulate it for himself, but he is specially to study how he can convey it to others, in general to the people. Thus young Lincoln already at Gentryville begins to be dipped into the deepest spiritual cur- rent of his coming life through this Book of Insti- tutions. He starts to learn "the What" of his message, and even of his destin}^ ; we may conceive that "the How" he is likewise appropriating through the popular Folk-Books. But, as before stated, it is not his call to produce a new Folk- Book, but to employ the old ones for his and their supreme institutional purpose, which is really what created them far back in the ages ever toil- ing to realize and to express some idea. So Lincoln uses them or their literary art to express his idea and that of his age to the people in their own native soul-form and dialect. It is clear, then, that Lincoln is taking an exten- sive and profound course of instruction in that best of all American schools — the High School of the People. What he is learning there, we have sought ANOTHER MIGRATION. 87 to bring to the surface, till we see the general sweep of the curriculum, even if many details lie buried in oblivion. A unique character he has already shown under his circumstances. All the boys of Gentry ville, of Indiana, and of the entire West had the same opportunity to go to school to the Folk-Soul, and to receive her deepest lessons. But Lincoln was the single youth who saw and seized fully the chance — that is just his mystery, his genius. Born of the humblest parentage, reared in obscurity and poverty, why just he? The same question comes up concerning every Great Man who stands at the turning-point of an epoch, and changes, or seems *to change, the course of History. Having thus noticed Lincoln's High School and the main text-books used by him in its training, we are brought to a fresh transition in liis life; we may deem it a change of schools from Indiana to Illinois — he having still to serve his Apprenticeship to the Folk-Soul, though in a wholly new way and with new results. X. Another Migration. "Up and be off, farther westward!" So we may conceive the old Aryan ancestor to have said count- less generations agone somewhere in the Asiatic Highland ere he started on his long Occidental journey round the globe, not yet accomplished by his descendants who have been repeating his act 88 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. ever since. One of these descendants, Thomas Lincoln, feels this primeval migratory instinct of his race and one day resolves to quit Indiana and move toward the Mississippi. Various grounds of dissatisfaction have been given for this change of abode, which grounds are to be allowed their due weight; but the deepest ground was that roving Tom Lincoln felt that he had already been too long confined to one spot and must move on again, this time to another Free-State, Illinois. It is to be noted that this removal was North- westward, passing still further from a Slave-State, and apparently following the instinct of the main American migration of the time. The center of population was moving Northward from its former Southern sweep, and also Westward from the Old Thirteen of the Atlantic coast. Our Abraham Lincoln, having just attained his majority is to go through the ancestral experience of his family, which has been on the wing across the continent, though with numerous deflections, ever since fore- father Samuel Lincoln set out from Norwich, England, quite two centuries before this last de- parture. And it may be added that this migra- tory line of the Lincolns is but a single strand of a vast human flight in the same general direction, whereof something has been already said. Young Lincoln, therefore, becomes an unconscious par- ticipant in a far-reaching racial movement through his present experience. ANOTHER MIGRATION. 89 Fourteen years the family of Thomas Lincohi had resided in Indiana under pinched conditions. The children had grown up, there seemed small prospect for them in that part of the country, whose soil turned out scanty and infertile, and whose climate was unhealthy. The conclusion was reached that there must be a going forth to a richer land, of which they had heard in Illinois through a rela- tive who lived in the valley of the Sangamon. A cedar which is said to be still standing on the site of Lincoln's home, was planted at his departure in his honor by his old friends. Once afterward, in the campaign of 1844, he revisited it, hunted up aU the old spots of sacred memory, and even broke out into verse — which was a habit of his in his early days. So it befalls that in March, 1830, the Lincoln family starts through the spring mud for its new destination, in big movers' wagons with ox teams. Thirteen persons compose the company. It is said that Lincoln invested his cash — thirty dol- lars — in small merchandise which he peddled along the road, doubling his investment. So not quite penniless could he have been when he reached the Sangamon, having some sixty dollars. Let the fact be duly recorded, since Lincoln in after life had the name of being unthrifty and careless as regards money. It seems that the movers passed through old Mncennes, where the young inquisitive fellow for the first time saw a printing-press. Ten 90 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. miles west of the town of Decatur the company- halted and prepared the new home, a log cabin, and put in their first crop. To fence the ground Lincoln assisted in making some rails, which after- ward became famous and gave him the title of Rail- Splitter. And now let us call up the central figure of this migrating group. A tall raw-boned youth is driv- ing a yoke of oxen which toils laboriously through the muddy roads of the Illinois prairie and traverses the high waters of swollen streams, to the tune of gee-haw. And when he reaches the cabin of a frontiersman, he stops and displays his articles for sale, saying: You ought to have a button for your pantaloons instead of that thorn stuck through your suspenders; aye, you have no needle and thread to sew the button on, here they are; upon this table spread out for us so hospitably, I observe a lack of knives and forks — I have some good ones, cheap. So he must have chaffered along the way in order to gain his hundred per cent out of his money. But when night comes on, and the com- pany is gathered round the blazing hearth of some farm-house together with its inmates, then the Artesian well of stories, jokes, humor would begin to bubble, spout and play out of the mouth of the long-legged ox-driver, and last till bed-time, to the unforgettable delight of that household, some of whom thirty years later might remember their ANOTHER MIGRATION. 91 visitor when he was chosen President of the United States, toward which goal he is now marching. After a journey of a fortnight, the Lincolns reach safely their destination, where soon our Abraham, being of age and having done his duty to his parents separates from the family, and starts upon a new stage of his career which is to be set forth in a new chapter. CHAPTER SECOND. Brifttng. We now come to a period in Lincoln's life, which shows him cutting loose from the anchor of his parental home and grappling in multitudinous ways with his new environing world. To him may be applied his own picturesque metaphor drawn from his river experience: "I am a piece of floating driftwood." This period embraces six or seven years, the better part of his twenties, say from 1830 to 1836-7. He was dissatisfied with his former life and with the outlook which his father's family gave him. From that he must separate at all hazards, if he intends to be anything. The parting, especially from his step-mother, was pain- ful; in fact he hung around her neighborhood for nearly a year after he had declared his indepen- dence. His material outfit seems to have been the rude suit of clothes on his body and this was in such a condition that it had to be renewed at once. Accordingly we hear that one of the first labors of the free man was to earn a pair of pantaloons to be made of butternut jeans, for every yard of which he had to split four hundred rails. So we can imagine herculean Abraham Lincoln with axe biting deeper into the trees of the forest and with maul coming down upon the wedge in (92) CHAPTER SECOND — DRIFTING. 93 huger whirls and heavier thuds than ever be- fore, being propelled by the new necessity as well as by the new consciousness of freedom which tells him that henceforth he is his own man. Such is the record, which doubtless gives us a glimpse of the rail-splitter Lincoln at this time. Still we cannot well conceive of him as utterly moneyless, for what has become of those sixty dollars, half of which he made by peddling small merchandise on the way from Indiana? Hardly has he let it all slip through his fingers, even if he has been generous to his parents, helping them to make a fresh start in their Illinois home. Here then begins a new (the second) stage of what we have called Lincoln's Apprenticeship, in which he is indentured to the world, or more par- ticularly to the Folk-Soul as it manifested itself among the pioneers of IlHnois. Already he had thought of breaking loose from the narrowness of his father's cabin and life in Indiana, when he was nineteen years old. But a friend whom he con- sulted advised the contrary, and exhorted him to stay with his parents, as duty demanded, till he had attained his majority. Now, however, he is twenty- one, his service is finished and he feels not only the right but the necessity of setting forth upon a new career, which is his own, and which brings him out as a distinct, separate, self-sufficing individual. Separation, then, he is making from the first anchorage of life, the Family, in which he has been 94 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. reared. This act determines the character of the whole present period : hence we may call it separa- tive. Having quit the stabihty of one kind of life, he cannot acquire at once the stability of an- other kind. He tries his hand at many sorts of occupations, he becomes a Jack-at-all-trades, seeking to find his center, and groping after his true vocation. He drifts down the little stream of life to which he has come with many a struggle and gyration, truly a "piece of floating driftwood" in the turbid waters of his own Sangamon at high flood, as they whirl him on to the Illinois, to the Mississippi, to the Ocean, which he is destined to reach through a tortuous channel full of picturesque surprises. And yet with this outer fluctuation and ever- renewed unsettling, Lincoln clings with dogged pertinacity to the inner thread of his destiny, which we have already seen spinning. He still continued to read with a world-consuming thirst all the books he could borrow as well as those which he had brought along. He practiced pubhc speak- ing with the trees of the forest as his auditors, among whom also stood his fellow rail-splitter, John Hanks. The latter tells how a candidate came into their locality and made a speech. "It was a bad one," declares our voucher, having become a critic of speech-making as well as of rail- splitting, "and I said Abe could beat it. I turned down a box and Abe made his speech, his subject CHAPTER SECOND — DRIFTING. 95 being the Navigation of the Sangamon River." The result was "Abe beat him to death" on that burning topic, "The Navigation of the Sangamon River," the most im])ortant poUtical question of the age to the settlers living along its shores. Nor must we forget to note that the same John Hanks, some thirty years later, brought two of these rails into the Convention at Decatur which put Abraham Lincoln directly into the Presidential race. Of all the rails ever split, they are most worthy of being named world-historical. Amid the many goings and comings of Lincoln during this period^ there is one spot about which he hovers : the village of New Salem wooing if not wedding the Sangamon. This village had its own peculiar life, which was very brief, but typical of much in the West. It lasted only about a decade of years, but Lincoln has given it a fadeless, rosy- cheeked immortality. The Sangamon river also flows incessantly through this period of Lincoln's life; the stream seems to have wrought a charm upon him, he gets to believing in its great destiny as if coupled with his own. If we could transport our- selves back into the Greek mythical world, we might conceive the youth Abraham Lincoln in love with the fair river-nymph, Sangamona, yellow-tressed like the Greek goddess, whom he pursued for years with her flowing locks. But she always ran through his grasp, till at last she fleeted out of his view forever. At present a navigable Sangamon seems 96 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. some far-off fabulous creature, interesting chiefly because she had the power of throwing a spell of blinding fascination for years over Lincoln, and of being the chief instrument of sending him to his first Legislature and thus starting him on his political career. But he saw his river-nymph dwindle away to a ghost, and with her e vanishment went hand in hand her own village, New Salem. Thereupon Lincoln has to cjuit his shadowy quest and give up both — wherewith this period of his biography comes to an end. Lincoln is, then, serving a part of his Ap- prenticeship at New Salem, an important, even if a wayward and scattered part in appearance. A new phase of the American Folk-Soul he gets acquainted with here, and takes many a lesson of it needful for his future task. He passes from the isolated farm house to the community, which gives him a higher degree of human association. On the one hand he, having separated from the united or more concentrated life of the Family, is thrown back upon his individuality pure and simple, which finds its unity within, and thence combines anew with his fellow-man. It is thus a kind of fresh birth into that Folk-Soul which it is his first function to know through and through, in all its moods and depths, in its strong as well as in its weak traits, what it can be brought to do and what it refuses to do. For Lincoln has first to fathom it, and to sound its deepest aspiration and CHAPTER SECOND — DRIFTING. 97 power, then he is to instil into it its great world- historical duty which also he has to start to learn in this Apprenticeship of his. New Salem recalls the Homeric village located on the frontier of European civilization in time and place, and pictured eternally in the Odyssey, with its singing story-teller, with its kingly man and chieftain in war and in games, with its public speakers and its fair women, above all, with its supereminent hero. So New Salem is a village on the frontier of American civilization, having a kind of epical idyllic hero, our Lincoln, who repre- sents quite all its lordlier phases as athlete, myth- maker, captain in war against the barbarians, and law-maker for the people. A little idyllic epos, therefore, spins itself out along this entire New Salem period of Lincoln, interwoven with a deeply colored love-tale, whose tragic outcome seems to forebode that of the town, if not that of the hero himself. It is curious how completely this unfamed por- tion of Lincoln's life has come down to us. It impressed itself strongly upon the memories of the villagers, who have told it to numerous biographic explorers with many a little variation attuned to the one key-note of hcroizing their sole genius. In the small community, young Lincoln stands forth strongly individualized ; indeed we deem this to be just that time when he was winning his individual- ity. He is not here lost in the vast crowd of a 7 98 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. great city, but is a kind of dominant figure, known and recognized by every person in the place, which is the bridge for the transition from his rural and domestic to his communal and political life. Deep is the correspondence in character during this period between Lincoln and New Salem, be- tween the yillage and its hero. Both are waifs, riding buoyantly on the stream of Time for a few years, and linked together by a common sympathy and bent of nature. Both are "pieces of floating driftwood," on the devious Sangamon till the village begins to sink out of sight when Lincoln, having served his time, dexterously jumps off, and passes to the new and rising town of that region. He is compelled to give up New Salem and his water-nymph Sangamona, who has turned out a delusive, insubstantial shadow. With this trans- ition to S])ringfield the New Salem idyl and New Salem itself draw to a close. Lincoln when in the Presidential chair once said that he loved to think back upon his New Salem period. It was indeed his -idyllic time of life, rainbowed with hope and poetry, yet shot through and through with dark clouds of failings and fail- ures ending in downright tragedy. For New Salem was blighted in the very hey-day of its youthful bloom, and Lincoln's first and strongest passion after a time of happy inflorescence, was smitten by fate like New Salem itself, and wound up in a crushing tragedy, a real tragedy of love, which DENTOX OFFUT. 99 deepened the melancholy lines already stamped upon his features and his soul. Still his limit- transcending genius whispered to him its behest and he rose up transfigured from the tragic blow to a new career. I. Denton Offut. Lincoln is still hovering about the parental neighborhood, not exactly at home, nor quite away from home, being unable as yet to have the umbilical cord severed which ties him so strongly to his Family. But that is what must be done and done at once, say the Powers who preside over his destiny, dictating not only the one physical birth of the man but directing every new turn in his spiritual genesis. Accordingly the person has appeared just at the appointed time who is to perform for Lincoln an act of liberation, giving him the opportunity to move forward a considerable curve in his orbit. The name of this person is Denton Offut, the West- ern adventurer taking the shape of a business man. He believed primarily in the Sangamon river and its future importance, extending his operations along it for many miles, as if he owned it. A jolly fellow with enormous quantities of brag at his dis- posal, particularly when the man became fluid by a sufficient admixture of strong drink; he would turn loose his tongue and his imagination at the 100 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. world-embracing outlook of the Sangamon. This was the man who put his spell upon Lincoln for a couple of years. John Hanks, whom we have already seen as Lincoln's fellow rail-splitter, brought him one day to Offut and introduced him, Offut's scheme was to hire these men to go to New Orleans with a boat-load of stock and provisions, thus connecting the Sangamon with the rest of the globe. The bargain was struck, brief preparation was made by the twain, fare-well was said to all concerned, when they sprang into a canoe not far from their cabin doors, and floated down stream to Jamestown, seemingly the port of Springfield. To the latter they had to go by land in order to meet Offut. After some search they found him at the town tavern called the Buckhorn, where he had a good opportunity to loosen his tongue and to let it pour out its treasures before congenial listeners. This was in March 183 L Springfield was not yet the capital of the State, but hardly more than a fron- tier settlement, into which now steps, seemingly for the first time, the person who has caused it to be named in the remotest parts of the earth, and to be made a center of pilgrimage of the mul- titude to the tomb of one who may be deemed more than any other man of the historic past the People's Hero. It turned out that Offut had been so occupied with his duties at the Buckhorn that he had pro- DENTON OFFUT. 101 vided no boat for the trip. So the ardent naviga- tors had first to make their own craft, which was easily accomphshed by these deft backwoodsmen, handy with edged tools, particularly with the axe. Lincoln, it may be here interpolated, always showed a taste for mechanics and decided ingenuity in devising mechanical appliances. In a month the boat was ready and launched; laden w4th bar- rel-pork, corn, and live hogs, it was swung out into the roaring Sangamon, the classic stream, and started to keep company with those turbid waters sweeping Gulfward. But behold! a mill-dam interrupts the stream at Rutledge's mill. New Salem; the boat is stranded on it, and hangs over the edge of it for twenty-four hours, with bow high in air, and stern clipping water. What is to be done? Unload the hogs and corn into another boat borrowed for the occasion; then bore a hole through the bottom at the front, roll the barrels of pork forward, whereat the craft tilts, the water within it runs out of the auger-hole and over the dam she slides in safety. Stopping the hole in the bottom, and bailing out the water our heroic navi- gators start on their journey, if not round the whole globe, at least round cjuite a perceptible segment of it. It is agreed that the central figure of the incident at Rutledge's dam was Lincoln. His ingenuity took control in the jiinch of the crisis, even to the boring of the auger-hole, the culminating act. He 102 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. shows himself the man for the emergency. Small indeed is the occurrence, yet typical; behold him some thirty years after this, on another far larger boat, nothing less than the Ship of State which is dashing about, with an utterly helpless helmsman, on the angry rapids toward the plunge of Niagara. Lincoln getting aboard seizes the helm, and directs the mighty hitherto drifting craft and shoots the cataract safely — the only man, seemingly among millions, who was able to do the job. Thus we may be permitted to link together the small and the great in the life of the Hero, the little incident in its little way pre-figuring the vast deed of the future. But dropping these far-off soul-stretching fore- casts and coming down to an immediate look be- fore us, we may see the whole village of New Salem gazing from the hill-side at the stranded boat, with many a vociferation from the men, who scream out from the point of safety what was to be done. But when the crisis is met successfully, liincoln is a famous man in that community; indeed Offut is there on the bank singing his praises, and de- claring that now the problem of the navigation of the Sangamon is solved, the right man having appeared. We shall build a new kind of steam boat, says he, with rollers for shoals and dams, with runners for ice, and chiefly w^e shall make Lincoln captain, and then, ''by thunder, she'd have to go." So that village choiring with DENTON OFFUT. 103 its hundred voices in unison, sings that day the lofty praises of Abraham Lincoln, and will not soon forget him. On his side let it be noted he will not forget New Salem. And let it be imagined that among the crowd looking at the sight from the hillside must have stood Ann Rutledge, the fair heroine of the New Salem idyl, who witnessed the first dramatic appearance of the village hero, doubtless with a heart beating admiration at his deed of skill and courage. The little craft soon passed into the Illinois out of the Sangamon and thence into the Mississippi, float- ing by many towns and cities, and meeting many sorts of boats. At last the boatmen reached New Orleans, sold their cargo, viewed the sights of the city. Here Lincoln saw the worst horrors of slav- ery, which was far milder in his native Kentucky. With his own eyes he beheld ''negroes in chains — whipped and scourged." In his wanderings he ran on a slave-auction; a comely mulatto girl was on the block, being pinched and felt and otherwise tested by the bidders. At the repulsive sight Lincoln is repcrted to have shown great indigna- tion, and to have dropped the prophetic words : "If I ever get a chance to hit that thing (slavery), I'll hit it hard." So Lincoln ought to have said, even if he did not, for the striking incident has been shown to be uncertain, as if fabled after the great event to which it has a covert allusion. The navigator came back by steamboat and 104 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. landed at St. Louis. They crossed to Edwards- ville, thence Lincoln with his step-brother who had been along, set out on foot for the new home of his father, who had moved again, quitting the valley of the Sangamon on account of another sickness, chills and fever. The son found the par- ents located on Goose Neck prairie, Coles County, a few miles from Charleston, the county seat. His stay was not long, not more than a month ; he felt he must persist in his separation from the parental hearth already begun the year before. He struck out for the upper Sangamon again, and apparently in some kind of a boat once more drifted down stream into New Salem, where, as he puts it in his second autobiography, "Abraham stopped indefinitely, and for the first time, as it were, by himself," apart from all former relatives, friends, and associates. As individual he now asserts himself, quite alone and ready to work his own pas- sage through the world. "This was in July 1831," as Lincoln dates it, and acids that "here he rapidly made acquaintances and friends," a wholly new set of them, and quite different from those whom he had previously known. So is marked a new step or stage in his Apprenticeship. We may conceive that Lincoln was drawn to New Salem by a curiosity to see again the scene of his famous exploit, and to get acquainted with the inhabitants, who had witnessed and applauded his triumph from the hill-side, and who, therefore, NEW SALEM. 105 already recognized him as somewhat of a hero. Why should he not have the best start in life just at that point? But there was another ground which if not so ideal, was more practical: Offut, the persistent trumpeter of his glory, had offered him a good position. Let the autobiography again speak: "He (Offut) conceived a liking for Abraham, and believing he could turn him to ac- count, contracted with him to act as clerk for him on his return from New Orleans in charge of a store and mill at New Salem." So Lincoln, having broken loose from home and described a considerable circle on land and water during the year, settles down in the river village which he is to make memorable by his stay. II. New Salem. Already we have made the name of New Salem familiar to our reader, to whom now must be given a somewhat more explicit account of it. A small place with never more than one hundred souls in it, yet with an earth-girdling ambition; it dreamed of a greatness never to be fulfilled, as it lay on its bluff in the sunshine, elevated about thirty yards above the general level of the land around. At its feet rolled the Sangamon, the deceitful little stream upon which it built its vast ho}K's. It was founded not more than two years 106 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST before Lincoln's arrival and its life lasts not long after his departure. Still it had at its best a thriving, throbbing existence. A brisk trade it drove with the surrounding country, having four stores, two mills and a tavern. Two spiritual guides are set down among its people, a preacher of wdiom we do not hear much, and a school- master, famous through Lincoln, A small quota of artisans had their shops about the village, which had something original in its simple communal Hfe on the border- of civilization. This communal life is what Lincoln is to experience, being the new fact upon which he comes in his career. More- over he is to take his part in the rise and the fall of the place and to turn out in his way its leading man. New Salem w^e may regard as Lincoln's symbol for this period of his life, reflecting the trend of his spirit in its character. Lincoln's designation of himself as "a piece of floating drift-wood" could also be applied to New Salem, Jiis com- munal environment. Offut's goods were slow in arriving, and Lincoln spent his time chiefly in lounging about town, making himself known and getting to know the people. Also he turned his hand to odd jobs that came along. His first was that of clerk at an election. Here he had an opportunity to try his story-telling gift on the small knots of voters who loitered round the polling place. Tradition has handed down his success as well as some of his XEW SALEM. 107 stories. The result of the election for him was that he won the position of chief fabulist and yarn- spinner of the place, the public poet we may deem him, like the bard of the old Homeric village. Such was his chief office in New Salem, and nobody ever supplanted him. But at last Offut opens his store and Lincoln is his clerk. For success in business the combina- tion cannot be pronounced a happy one. Offut was a swaggering, good-hearted fellow, too fond of the bottle and of boon companions at the tavern; Lincoln was untrained to business and given more to jesting and story-telling than to selling merchan- dise at a profit. Lincoln's own report of the matter runs: "In less than a year Offut's business was failing — had almost failed — when the Black Hawk war broke out." Let it be stated here that Lincoln in almost ascetic contrast with his surroundings, did not drink or smoke or squirt tobacco juice; still he could get intoxicated on a good joke or story of his own, and treat the crowd to a horse- laugh, in which they would all join with a rustic sincerity. That was chiefly what was going on at Offut's new store, the village's place of enter- tainment. New Salem had a good deal of the mushroom in its character, and Offut with his business was a kind of pre-figurement of its destiny. There was an uncertain element about it, something unreal, grotesque, indicated in basing its existence upon 108 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. the navigation of the Sangamon, Offut is a fan- tastic figure, and Lincoln is not without the same trait. Both he and the village take delight in humorous grotesquery, and both are in themselves grotesques, to a degree. Both are drifting together in a sea of fantasticalities at this time; we shall see this town sink, and Lincoln come to anchor after a flight from it. How often did he change his vocation at New Salem and tliink of other changes which he never made ! And a deeper, yet concordant fact must be noted. Profoundly it lay in the character of the village to show a skeptical tendency; in its very scanty list of books we hear of Paine, Voltaire and Volney. Lincoln partook of this trait also, which long left its mark upon him. Mentally adrift were the time, the place and the man — that was a part of his present Apprenticeship. He passes through a negative stage which questions and perchance denies the ancient foundations of belief. We may well call New Salem a negative town, and hence it vanished through its own inner dialectic. A kind of grotesque inferno it is then for Lincoln, who has to go through it and then rise out of it. Old Peter Cartwright, the frontier circuit-rider of Methodism, would call it a nest of infidels; in his later political campaign for Congress, when he ran against Lincoln, he did not fail to make the most of the latter's religious shortcomings. An un- settled existence the village led, internally and ex- NEW SALEM. 109 ternally, mentally and physically. This skeptical spirit Lincoln reflected, had to reflect, in a piece of writing, in a long essay or book against the leading tenets of Christianity, which, it is said, he in- tended to print. He carried it around with him, took it to the store and discussed it with friends, one of whom (named Samuel Hill, his employer) snatched the manuscript and thrust it into the stove,' where it was soon reduced to smoke and cinders, never to be resuscitated by its author. Thus was his negation negated, out of which fact he might have learned more than he ever did from the writings of the French skeptics, whose negation was also furiously negated in the flames of the French Revolution. And skeptical, negative New Salem itself will burn up, like Lincoln's book, not indeed in a sudden conflagration, but in a very rapid fire kindled by old Father Time himself. And our Lincoln, badly scotched but not inciner- ated, we shall behold fleeing this new Hell-fire, in which he ought now to get some faith. Still New Salem, w^e must not forget, had its positive side which exerted an abiding influence upon Lincoln. In it he made an easy transition from farm-life to town-life, and thereby participated in a new institution of which he became an inde- pendent member through himself as individual. The Family had hitherto controlled him, absorbed him as it were, telling him what to do and taking the proceeds. From this intimate domestic bond 110 ABRA HA M LIN COL Y—PA R T FIRS T. New Salem severs him, and compels him to asso- ciate himself anew, in his own right ^and through his own activity. He is trained to make himself valid individually in a community not too large nor too small, which is itself in a formative stage along with everybody in it. We have to consider then, that New Salem represents a landing-place in Lincoln's development into freedom. He be- comes a self-controlled atom which associates itself with others like it in a free communal life, he being able to make himself the leader, the first person of the place, really "the big buck of the lick," as he once called himself in a different situation. Through his New Salem experience Lincoln has tested himself with many yet not with too many, and has come to know himself to be the best man not only in brawn but in brain. The village Hercules triumphs in might, and also in mind. He reaches a consciousness of his true Self to the point of a strong belief in his own destiny. Mod- esty, yes; but equally a decided self-appreciation and self-reliance, foi- his fellow- villagers reflect his own worth back to him at every meeting. New Salem, just through its negative character helps to separate Lincoln from the indifferent level of the multitude. We see him beginning his rise out of the protoplasmic mass of the Folk, and be- coming one of its leaders, who first gets to be conscious of himself and then to be conscious of it THE VILLAGE SCHOOLMASTER. Ill in its supreme though unconscious end, who learns to converse with it in its own speech and to shape in words its quite chaotic instincts which well up from the deepest sources. From this mass he has to separate and yet be of it, sharing its soul, speak- ing its tongue and finally voicing to it its own world-historical purpose. The Sangamon dries up, and New Salem with it; the village never grows old but dies in its very efflorescence, fading away like and almost with blooming Ann Rutledge, Lincoln's earliest and fairest flower of love. III. The Village Schoolmaster. Intellectually the most important man in New Salem for Lincoln was the village schoolmaster, who knew somewhat more than Lincoln did, and seems to have been ever ready to impart his knowl- edge. We have already seen these pioneer teachers following the frontier settlements and weaving their influence into the career of Lincoln. The present one was evidently the most influential of all, though Lincoln appears never to have gone to school to him directly. Still he was the guide and the instructor of the youth in a number of branches for several years. Very striking and suggestive is that name of his, though seemingly accidental ; "he was truly a Mentor to our young Abraham eagerly seeking knowledge. Again the 112 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. old Greek poet is recalled, from whom this very name has come down to New Salem, and has interlinked the ancient with the modern. So in our Homeric town on the Sangamon the sage Mentor again appears, whose form Pallas Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom assumes, speaking the words of hope to our youthful Telemachus, antl giving him wise counsel as well as weighty instruc- tion. Ithacan Mentor, divinely voiced, has be- come the American schoolmaster in this little Lincolniad, and the latter may also hear betimes a celestial whisper, even if he cannot now see an actual epiphany of the Olympians. The name of Mentor Graham, the schoolmaster at New Salem, cannot be left out of Lincoln's biography. The two had first met and had found each other out on election day. Graham saw a tall raw-boned young fellow hanging about the polls and telling stories. The schoolmaster being the clerk, needed help, and felt the impulse to call the stranger, propounding to him the cjuestion: "Can you write?" Lincoln humorously drawled out: "I can make a few rabbit tracks." Graham knew that he had discovered his man and at once inducted him into office. He did its duties accept- ably and filled up the gaps of time with his yarns. Evidently a bond of friendship thenceforth was established between the two ; the schoolmaster had time to measure the capacity of the youth and to feel his aspiration. Lincoln through his writing THE VILLAGE SCHOOLMASTER. 113 and speaking hatl grown conscious of a deficiency in his training; it is possible that in some Httle incident the schoolmaster may have brought it to his notice. At any rate he became aware that speech is organized and has its laws, of which he was ignorant. These, then, he must learn if he is ever going to be a writer or speaker. It dawns upon him that his next serious study must be Grammar, which he had never taken in his school- days; he seems hardly to have known of it then. He consulted Graham, who encouraged him heartily, particularly "if you are going before the public." The strange fact comes out that the schoolmaster had no Grammar, that there was none in New Salem. Still he knew of one belong- ing to a man six miles from the village. Lincoln at once set out for the place on foot and succeeded in borrowing the book. It was a copy of Samuel Kirkham's English Grammar, well known through- out the West in early days, now quite supplanted and hurled down into the huge limbo of departed text-books. The copy used by Lincoln is still in existence, with some of his writing upon it. But what a boon to him ! His heart must have leaped with new hope as he read upon the title-page the promises, for the work will reveal to him not only the Parts of Speech but also "a new system- atick order of parsing," and likewise "a new system of punctuation and exercises in false syntax," all of which is designed "for the use of 8 114 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. schools and private learners " like himself. It is declared that he studied the book incessantly till he mastered it, and even committed to memory- its contents, with its numerous quotations of sage maxims and of poetry. A significant step in his culture we must deem it when he became acquainted with the structure of the language which he had before used instinc- tively, getting conscious of what he had always done unconsciously, and thereby becoming able to handle the weapon which hitherto had rather handled him. Lincoln was ready not only to understand but to appreciate Grammar, which too often is foisted prematurely upon young minds, to their confusion and disgust. But Lincoln, now twenty-two years old, saw through it, absorbed and assimilated it with great avidity; as is reported by one who must have known the fact, namely, his bed-fellow who had to hold the book and hear him repeat the contents. Whenever he could not pull through a tlifficulty. Schoolmaster Graham was called upon and helped him out. Pleasant it must have been to the teacher to see the chaos of speech gradually getting ordered and slowly transforming itself into a linguistic cosmos in the mind of that uncouth lad of mighty aspiration. And let it be noted that among the pupils of Master Graham's School was Ann Rutledge, the budding flower of this little Homeric world. She must have seen Lincoln there, and known his THE VILLAGE SCHOOLMASTER. 115 talent as well as his tireless pursuit of culture. This desire she, too, possessed, and it must have been already a common bond of sympathy. That very copy of Kirkham's Grammar, still extant, which he studied so thoroughly and of which he became the owner, he afterwards gave to Ann Rutledge, who evidently wished to master it too, and so be on a par with him. Through her it has descended in her family as an inherited treasure. Upon its title page we read in Lincoln's hand- writing: Ann M. Rutledge is now learning Gram- mar. Such is the simple inscription, but under- neath it with its attendant circumstances we may read that these two souls are beginning to have a common hope and purpose, a union of hearts fortified by a union of intellects, out of which can spring the deepest happiness of life, or its tragedy. Nor can we help recalling once more in the pre- sent conjuncture that other Mentor who lived thou- sands of years ago in sunny Ithaca, and in whose shape the Goddess Pallas Athena appears before an- other struggling youth and speaks to him the word of wisdom — the brave Telemachus. He also is to set out on a new stage of his education, being dircctetl to proceed to the sage Nestor that he may hear about his father Ulysses and learn lore from ancestral example. So our new Mentor voicing the command of the Goddess on the banks of the Sangamon exclaims to the aspiring youth there: Study Grammar. And this youth, our Abraham 116 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. Lincoln, hears the word and recognizes it to be the voice of the Goddess of Wisdom, and at once prepares to obey, for his heart is ready to hsten to the divine behest. But Telemachus is to get his education from the mouth of the wise old man, as there was no printed page then, and withal no Grammar. So we are led by the name to couple the two Mentors, the ancient and the modern, the one at Greek Ithaca, close to the Gods, and the other at American New Salem, rather remote from divinity, each of them being alike the chosen vehicle of the word of wisdom for two aspiring youths at the turning-point of destiny. IV. The Village Hercules. And now an Homeric contest is to take place in our Homeric village, which has, first of all, to dis- cover its athletic hero. This is bound to be none other than our strong-boned, huge-handed, over- topping Abe Lincoln. Ever memorable is the exploit of Hercules in his fight with Antaeus, the violent, gigantic son of Mother Earth, who always imparted to him renewed strength when his feet touched her terrene body. At last Hercules lifted him up and held him high in the air, crushing him to death while separated from his might-giving ftiother. So the hero of New Salem, Abe Lincoln, THE VILLAGE HERCULES. 117 will wrestle with a modern earth-son, hight Jack Armstrong, head bully of Clary's Grove; long the combat lasts, for Jack always lights on his feet again, after every powerful twist and whirl, till at last Abe grapples him by the throat and hoists him aloft, "shaking him hke a rag," says our worthy reporter, Herndon, who, if not actually present, heard the famous exploit often recounted by the villagers. Repeatedly the physical strength and athletic feats of Lincoln have been celebrated in the pre- ceding years; already in Indiana echoes of his prowess have come down, perpetuated and prob- ably magnified by his future renown. But at present in New Salem the new-comer must vindi- cate his position in a new way; he must show him- self the best man of the baihwick. It is true the best man in the frontier dialect did not get his superlative from moral excellence, but from physical. Again we think of the pioneer Greek age, when the same hnguistic fact confronts us: the good man means the strong man, and virtue {arete) itself is martial rather than moral. Moreover, Offut, uncjuestionably the most enterprising head and the windiest mouth in the place, was seeking to develop the latent gifts of Lincoln, in whom he thorouglily believed. He goes boasting around the village that his long-legged awkward clerk "can outrun, whip, or throw down any man in the County of Sangamon." This was taken as a 118 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. challenge to the entire community to bring out its "best man," and settle where the crown of glory belonged by the tug of actual conflict. An Olympic contest is thus preparing for the villages of New Salem and vicinity. A few miles distant from New Salem stood a belt of timber, called Clary's Grove, which harbored a set of young bloods of the frontier type, pug- nacious,- of terrible name, yet not wholly depraved or malicious, often showing a charity to the poor and a gallantry to the fair, which recalls Robin Hood and his chivalrous foresters. They had their leader, their "best man," named Jack Arm- strong, whose primacy in this domain of sluggery was accepted by the whole adjacent country. The fame of the newly-arrived athlete was bruited about everywhere by the grand gasconader, Offut. The result was a challenge, backed by a stake of ten dollars, the proposition being that "Jack Armstrong was a better man than Abe Lincoln." All the village and all the vicinity assembled to witness this new Olympic contest, not now on the sunny banks of Greek Alplieus, but not far from the rippling Sangamon of muddy fame. It is reported that the whole proceeding was very dis- tasteful to Lincoln with his Quaker strain; but his friends had compromised him and themselves, a back-down could not be thought of, and so he sailed in. The climax seems to have been when the tall Hercules in a final supreme effort, picked THE VILLAGE HERCULES. 119 up his antagonist as if another Antseus, held him out at arm's length and shook him ''like a rag." That was the triumphant end of the conflict, and we suppose that the assembled multitude tore their throats and the circumambient air with acclamations for the victor, while defeated bully- dom slunk off to its lair out of sight at Clary's Grove, wiser and seemingly repentant through the castigation. For Hsten! "Jack Armstrong, his wife Hannah, and all the other. Armstrongs" show ever afterwards warm friendship for Lincoln, who in his turn would ''rock Hannah's babies" while on a visit, and she would "fox his pantaloons" oft broken in spots. And in later times when a lawyer at Springfield, Lincoln saved "one member of the family from the gallows" through his legal skill, though the fellow probably ought to have been hung. Thus the two grand protagonists of New Salem and Clary's Grove conquer a lasting peace between themselves and seemingly between their neighborhoods. And now in addition to being chief fabler and yarn-spinner of the place, our Lincoln has added another large sprig of laurel to his wreath of glory ; he is acclaimed "the best man in town." A modern Olympic victor on the banks of the San- gamon we have to deem him, worthy of a high- soaring Pindaric hymn, but alack-a-day! there is no Pindar to sing it to New Salem and to all pos- terity. And our village Hercules of the back- 120 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. woods is not the fair-proportioned statuesque shape of Hellenic mould, but rather a grotesque figure doing grotesque things in a kind of grotesque world. This trait of his we must now grasp and take along with us to the end; a strand of strange grotesquery, not easy to adjust, runs through his whole life. Who can forget the man in his and the nation's sorest trial turning to grotesque humor for disburdening his oppressed heart, making mouths at destiny in her bitterest spite? In classic Homer even Zeus the Highest has his grotesque moods, particularly when he teases his very teasable spouse Juno. And Shakespeare, on the very top of his highest tragedy has the fool slip in as if to mock Fate at its uttermost. Lincoln, laden with the great purpose of his People and gifted with the deep moral earnestness of his time cannot help weaving through the Divine Order a thread of grotesquery to make it complete. But let us return to our youthful hero marching back from Clary's Grove to New Salem along the two miles' stretch of road amid a tumultuous crowd of whooping friends, who in a grand procession are bringing the new Olympic victor to his abode. This was probably at the present time the village hostelry called Rutledge Tavern, named after and for a while kept by Ann Rutledge's father. The maiden must also be imagined there in her own home, taking many an admiring peep at the scene and its heroic central figure. For the Iliad of Troy THE VILLAGE HERCULES. 121 town and also that of New Salem cannot be without its fair Helen. Let her then flit for a brief moment before our eyes in this little epical Lincolniad, pre- luding a short faint note of some deeper destiny hereafter. The village of New Salem, all unconscious of its poetic power, frequently re-enacts Homeric ex- ploits in a kind of serio-comic vein, though wholly naive in what it is doing. That perfectly natural grotesquery, so quaint and subtle, imparts an unafTected mock-heroic tinge to all its activities. Hardly would this communal trait be worth noticing, had it not passed over into Lincoln, in whom it was embodied and concentrated, and whose character and utterance it colored to the end of his days, even in the presence of the dignitaries of the nation and of the earth on high occasions of state in the White House, whereat the lofty-toned gentlemen of the Atlantic coast and elsewhere were often shocked. But now comes the supreme Homeric exploit, truly epical in its reach. In the olden time each little Greek community heard the call to arms against the Asiatic Trojans, and sent its con- tingent of warriors unfler its village hero to fight the barbarous foe. The summons to bloody war is now to be heard in New Salem also, volunteers will respond under the leadership of its strong man, Abraham Lincoln, and march out against the red-skinned barbarians, the American Indians. 122 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. But this Troy war is not to restore beautiful Helen, nor does it last ten years, though it has its woes and its hero. But let us devote its own canto to this new little Iliad, whose theme is the Black Hawk War, chiefly famed at the present time for its New Salem Achilles. V._ The Black Hawk War. In 1832 when the Black Hawk war broke out, Abraham Lincoln was twenty-three years old, being already recognized as the peculiarly gifted young-man of the village. He was specially re- ceptive of this new experience of war, small enough, but leaving a strong impression upon him, and be- coming truly a part of his Apprenticeship. It was made by him into a kind of romantic back- ground for his story-telling during a long time. Sixteen years later when he was a Congressman at Washington, he won eminence by his stories and those pertaining to the Black Hawk war were singled out as the best. That event, so stimulat- ing to. his young creative soul, he clustered over and over in masses of fable and romance, ever sprouting afresh with new turns from his myth-making fancy. The people of Lincoln's territory had been deeply stirred and indeed fright- ened by the occurrence, and responded with heart- felt interest to tales and novelettes born of its THE BLACK HAWK WAR. 123 adventures. In this matter also we see Lincoln voicing the Folk-Soul, and fabling for it in its own form of utterance. Nor should we omit to notice in this connection a speech of Lincoln's in the National House of Representatives, July 28th, 1848 (Works I, p. 142), in which he assumes the mock-heroic attitude to- ward his own exploits in the Black Hawk war, by way of chaffing General Cass, whom, as their can- didate for President, the Democrats would pedestal as a military hero alongside General Taylor, the Whig canchdate and victor of Buena Vista. Lin- coln being a Whig, breaks out into the following fantastic strain of burlesquery: "By the way, Mr. Speaker, did you know I am a military hero? Yes, Sir; in the days of the Black Hawk war I fought, bled and came away. Speak- ing of General Cass's career reminds me of my own. I was not at Stillman's defeat, but I was about as near it as Cass was to Hull's surrender; and, like him, I saw the place very soon afterward. It is quite certain I did not break my sword, for I had none to break ; but I bent a musket pretty badly on one occasion. If Cass broke his sword, the idea is that he broke it in desperation; I bent the musket by accident. If General Cass went in advance of me in picking huckleberries, I guess I surpassed him in charges upon the wild onions. If he saw any live, fighting Indians, it was more than I did; but I had a good many bloody struggles with the 124 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. mosquitoes, and although I never fainted from loss of blootl, I can truly say I was often very hungry." Such was Lincoln's humorous echo of his heroic achievements in the Black Hawk war long after- ward. But let us go back to New Salem and watch the beginning of this episode. It had become manifest that Offut was failing in business and must soon close. Lincoln was already looking for some other occupation; it is a mark of his self-re- liance as well as of his self-appreciation that the raw young fellow announced himself a candidate for the State Legislature early in March, 1832, and issued an address to the people of Sangamon County, feeling himself duly prepared to talk grammatically, which most of the members could not do. Evidently Offut has performed his func- tion in the life of Lincoln, having separated him from home, and given him an opportunity for a new stage of experience in the village of New Salem. In this Apprenticeship of Lincoln, Denton Offut therefore has his little niche, and is endowed with an inconspicuous immortality through his help of and faith in Abraham Lincoln, to whom he has given quite a little push forward in reaching that great goal which we all now see, but he then could not. Offut soon disappears without leaving a trace, investigation since conducted has failed to find whither he went from New Salem. Enough; he has performed his part in the world's history, and also in this biography. THE BLACK HAWK WAR. 125 But listen! what is this piece of newest news? A horseman comes riding into town one of these April days (1832), and brings a call to arms. The Indians under their chief, the much-feared Black Hawk, are on the war-path, have crossed the Mississippi into Illinois, and have invaded the Rock River country in the Northern part of the State. The Governor has issued a call for volun- teers and whisked it towards every point of the compass by trusty messengers, one of whom gal- lops through New Salem scattering hand-bills. Lincoln quits the store, stops his electioneering, and enlists. A company is formed and he is chosen captain. This election Lincoln always deemed a bright feather in his cap of glory, and he never failed to point to it, the occasion offering. In both his short autobiographic sketches he mentions it with a distinct cachinnation of delight. In the first and briefest he writes: "Then came the Black Hawk war; and I was elected a captain of volunteers — a success which gave me more pleasure than any I have had since," (written in 1859). The second and longest account speaks of the same event in the third person: "Abraham joined a volunteer company, and to his own surprise was elected captain of it. He says he has not since had any success in life which gave him so much satisfaction. He went to the campaign, served near three months, met the ordinary hardships of such an expedition, 126 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. but was in no battle," (written in 1860, before his election to the Presidency). Well may he take pleasure in this vote of confidence from his fellow- citizens, probably the first truly appreciative one in his life. A considerable body of grown men have selected him as their leader, in what seems an im- portant emergency. A little prelude we may enjoy in it of far-off mighty events which are soon to take up their march in History, when again Lincoln will be elected Captain. So our Abraham at the head of his little band steps forth proud and tall as the leading warrior of New Salem, and our Illinois village on the fron- tier again insists on imitating Homer or parodying him in dead earnest, without knowing a word about him. For now under its local Hero or Strong Man it sends forth its contingent to "the bloody bridge of war" to fight against the Trojans and King Priam, who have re-appeared on the Western con- tinent along the banks of the Mississippi in the form of American savages and their chieftain Black Hawk, though the latter have indeed not stolen Helen or anything, but rather have "been stolen from by these valorous Greeks of the Oc- cident. An earnest passing glance we may cast upon the Indian who has shown himself wholly unable to counteract or to assimilate the ever-encroaching Anglo-Saxon civilization. Black Hawk with true insight touches the ground of his people's decline: THE BLACK HAWK WAR. 127 "My reason teaches me that land cannot be sold— nothing can be sold but such things as can be carried away." Still the Indians had sold their lands, hardly knowing what they had done. In- dividual ownershi}) of the soil lay beyond their horizon. In the words of Black Hawk: "The Great Spirit gave it (the soil) to his children to live upon and to cultivate," not to traffic in it as a piece of movable property. "If they voluntarily leave it, then any other people have the right to settle upon it," thinks the Indian confined to the idea of his primitive Village Community, out of which he is totally unable to pass. It is the conflict of two institutional worlds, the outgoing and the incom- ing, there taking place along the border land. Lincoln has a part in this conflict, siding of course with his own race's civilization. How could he help it? For the struggle between the red man and the white man is not merely a physical tussle, but a contest between two institutions, of which each colliding party is the bearer. The deepest fact of man is that world of institutions lying in his soul, out of which world he can no more take a leap than out of his skin. So Lincoln amid his other experiences gets a taste of that long Ameri- can struggle on the frontier between what is usu- ally called barbarism and civilization — a struggle which has already lasted more than two hundred years, and in which his ancestors have participated for generations. He could hardly help thinking 128 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. of his grandfather, also an Abraham Lincoln, who migrating to Kentucky as a pioneer, was slain by an Indian in ambush. Moreover our Abraham Lincoln now gets quite a little dip into military life, of which he is to have so large an experience in the future. To be sure there was no field for grand strategy in that petty hurly-burly of redskins and backwoodsmen on the border. But there had to be drill and military routine, since the West-Pointer was there and in command. In this regard it is interesting to note that Lincoln gets to know somewhat of the United States army officers — a class of men with whom he will have much to do hereafter in many notable ways. Colonel Zachary Taylor was there with im- portant duties, one of which was to quell a mutiny of rebellious volunteers in face of the enemy; him Lincoln afterwards supported for the Presidency. Lieutenant Albert Sidney Johnston was there, after- wards General in the Southern Confederacy who fell mortally wounded at Shiloh, battling against troops under the command of that obscure Illinois Captain, Abraham Lincoln, when he had risen to be Com- mander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States. A young Lieutenant of Artillery was there, Robert Anderson, to whom it was allotted to open the Civil War at Fort Sumter under that same "Commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States," whom he had mustered out of military service some twenty-nine years before THE BLACK HAWK WAR. 129 that event. A most significant commentary on American Institutions is all this, with their unsur- passed power of bringing the right man to the front, though of the humblest birth, against the social privileges and prejudices of rank and wealth. Nor can we help noting the number of Southern men in the list of army officers at this time, headed by Scott and Taylor. This fact will have its por- tentous significance for Lincoln and the Nation in 1861. Already it had been observed that the South largely furnished the officers of the United States army, while the North furnished largely, though not wholly, the rank-and-file. This may well be deemed a phase of the sj^lit already setting in between the aristocratic and the democratic elements of the land. And may we not bring out into the light the typi-cal fact that Lincoln, chosen here by his people in a very small way, but here- after to be chosen in a large and the largest way, now first appears among an unchosen but perma- nent officialdom, and gets the experience of the most undemocratic yet a necessary part of the American government. Such experience will be- stead him well in his supreme emergency. And now let us listen to another and even more surprising report about one of these young Army-Lieutenants, also of Southern birth, affable, of fine aristocratic bearing, and very talented, who, it is declared, mustered into the service of the United States Abraham Lincoln and his 130 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. rather democratic company for the Black Hawk war: ''Then a tall, gawky, slab-sided, homely young man, dressed in a suit of blue jeans, presented him- self as captain of a company of recruits, and was sworn in by Jefferson Davis." (Life of Davis by his wife. Vol. I, p. 132, — written of course after the Civil War). It would seem, then, that the first oath taken by Lincoln to support the Constitution of the United States was administered to him by Jefferson Davis, future President of the Southern Confederacy, who had taken the same oath. Which of the two kept it best is a question upon which History has had a good deal to say, and upon which it is destined to say a good deal more. But imagine "tall, gawky, slab-sided, homely" Abraham Lincoln holding up that enormous hand of his to the dapper, well- groomed, aristocratic Jefferson Davis out there in the backwoods of Illinois, and then take a glimpse into the seeds of time and see how they grow. Might Davis, as he looked upon that awful hand held higher than his head and backed by long, swinging, scythe-like arms of Destiny, have had some far-off presentiment that it would come down upon him heavily one day for failure to ob- serve that very oath which he was then administer- ing? Davis with his friends, as the world knows, will maintain that he is within his right and oath when he tries to break up the Union and its Consti- THE BLACK HAWK WAR. 131 tution, to which he has sworn allegiance; let us not argue with him ; still the Big Hand will descend like Fate and crush his Idea, but not him for- tunately, for who is not glad that he lived to tell the tale of his deeds in his own way, to his heart's content? And let us add that Lincoln would be the first to excuse, yea to laugh at the above-cited words, rather disparaging in tone but not untrue literally, of the amiable biographer who so fore-* ibly expresses her aristocratic contempt for the colossal antagonist of her husband. Let it now be added that the foregoing incident is not capable of documentary proof, though prob- able. The muster-roll of Lincoln's company is not on file at the Adjutant-General's office where it ought to be. Moreover the record shows that Jefferson Davis had a furlough from March '26th, to August 18th, 1832, which covers the time of Lincoln's service. Hence the doubt as to their meeting. But according to the evidence of Davis himself confirmed by many volunteers of the Black Hawk campaign who saw him and recollect him, he must have been there, doubtless hastening back to service when the war broke out. This is not only probable, but a young Lieutenant could hardly do otherwise; not only he but his fellow-officers and also his own soldiers in the ranks would say that it was no time "to be absent on furlough." Mrs. Davis doubtless reports the recollection of her husband. So we can say: not directly prov- 132 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. able but probable is the unique scene of towering Abraham Lincoln holding up his gigantic hand to and perchance over Jefferson Davis to take the oath of allegiance to the Government of the United States. VI. Candidate Lincoln. It has been already stated that Lincoln had announced himself as a candidate for representa- tive in the Illinois Legislature when his election- eering was suddenly interrupted by the Black Hawk war. Moreover he had issued "an Address to the People of Sangamon County" in order to make known ''my sentiments in regard to local affairs/' national affairs, such as tarifT and bank, being omitted. This manifesto is interesting from several points of view. In style it is carefully written, and on the whole well worded, even if a little stiff for Lincoln, for there is not a joke in it, nor a streak of humor to our perception ; no anecdote, no story, only one little mental grimace. This is not the mimic Lincoln of the country-store, of the street- corner, of the stump ; he feels that he must now be dignified and formal like other empty-pated figure- heads who are running for the Legislature. The piece was probably corrected in grammar and style by the schoolmaster, Mentor Graham; McNamar, the betrothed of Ann Rutledge, claimed likewise to have had a hand in correcting it. Upon its com- CANDIDATE LINCOLN. 133 position as the first-born writ of his pohtical career the young author must have spent a good deal of labor; also he could not help reading it with a cer- tain delight to all his friends, who of course admired it. At their urgent request, no doubt, to which he bashfully but joyfully yielded, it was printed in the forn:i of a hand-bill and scattered over San- gamon County, with no small expectations of its powerful effect upon the voters. As with this candidacy the political life of Lin- coln opens, so with this Address he begins to use the Printed Page to further his political purpose. Already in Indiana it is said that some of his juve- nile articles had been published in newspapers. But the road on which he now starts he never aban- dons till death itself halts him. This product is properly his first appeal to the Folk-Soul to make him « their lawgiver, their representative, their mediator. As yet the field is small, and the issue not so important, but the one will widen till it em- braces the whole country, and the other will grow till it becomes not only national but world-histor- ical. What, then, were the main points of this first Address? As before said it purposely avoids na- tional topics, and confines itself to local questions. (1) He dwells particularly upon the need of inter- communication, and hence puts great stress upon internal improvements of which the supreme example is the Sangamon. This river will open a 134 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. connection with the Illinois, with the Mississippi, with the Gulf, with the Ocean, with the World. Such was the grand outlook which Lincoln unrolls to the New Salemites, who voted for him almost to a man, without regard to party. Lincoln gives soberly the details how the channel can be cleared of drift, straightened by a little digging, deepened by a little dredging — and then we have a navigable stream just for a small appropriation. Still the whole scheme was chimerical, there was not enough water falling from Heaven into the valley of the Sangamon to float any regular traffic. Though New Salem voted it up, the county as a whole voted it down. (2) The Address grapples with another popular question — the limitation of the rate of interest. The farmers were oppressed by usurers and were crying for relief by means of legis- lation — a very old remedial method. Now Lincoln knew that any legal restraint upon interest would simply increase the burden to those who most needed help. And yet he favors a law which will work both ways : it is to be evaded in extreme cases, but otherwise is to be enforced. Thus our fledg- ling of a legislator will enact a lav; wherein "means can always be found to cheat the law," and yet to execute it also. So our Lincoln in his legislative capacity proposes to ride two horses at once run- ning in opposite directions'. Let him be beaten at the polls, decree the Powers, and set him to studying the law before he starts to making it, for, CANDIDATE LINCOLN. 135 to say the least, his ignorance of it is fundamental. We may note, however, that this patent reversible gimcrack of a law which is made to turn itself in- side out and still to go on working, drops away from Lincoln's career henceforth. (3) The Ad- dress says a good word for education "as the most important subject which we as a people can be engaged in." One thinks that he sought to give the coming generation a better chance than he ever had. His chief argument is noteworthy, in view of his own past, urging 'Hhat every man may be enabled to read the histories of his own and other countries, by which he may duly appreciate the value of our free institutions," whose safety, indeed, depends upon the Printed Page, nor does he omit the advantage of ''all being able to read the Scrip- tures for themselves," though this is put second in line. (4) There is a personal touch in the final paragraph which declares his highest ambition to be "that of being truly esteemed of my fellow-men, by rendering myself worthy of their esteem." Certainly this gives a little glimpse into Lincoln's earliest aspiration, though "I was born and have ever remained in the most humble walks of life." That is Lincoln, the rise from the very bottom to the highest summit of the nation and of the age. Then a last word of resignation: "But if the good people in their wisdom shall see fit to keep me in the background, I have been too familiar with dis- appointments to be much chagrined." As we 136 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. understand him, he rather forbodes defeat, still he is going to take his first pkmge into the Ocean of the People, the vast protoplasmic mass, in which his real work lies, and which he is to inform with its supreme world-historical purpose. (The whole Address is given in Lincoln's Works, by Nicolay and Hay, being the first printed piece of his com- position) . So our modern Homeric hero returns from his exploits in the Black Hawk war and asks his fel- low-citizens to elect him Captain in an entirely new vocation. He wishes to start in his civil career, which is really the one of his heart, and which will give him his life-task. He will in time get to be commander-in-chief, military indeed, but, what is much more significant, supra-mili- tary, commanding war itself, if need be, against war, and winning rather the most positive victory of the age. So it befell that Lincoln, after his dis- charge from military service on the border against the barbarians, returned directly to peaceful, idyllic New Salem, now the lodestone of his career for a number of reasons public and private, being acclaimed the hero of the village by a new deed of fame with its fresh sprig of laurel. He reached the much desired spot in August, 1832, having been absent since his enlistment in the preceding April. This was his three months' service and may have vaguely suggested the period of his first call for volunteers in 18G1. He renewed his can- CANDIDATE LINCOLN. 137 diclacy for the Legislature already announced, and his captaincy in the Black Hawk war must have been a stirring item in his electioneering capital. In connection with Lincoln's candidacy we have to chronicle a new and very exhilarating event in the life of New Salem which helped raise the delu- sion of a navigable Sangamon to the boiling point of delirium. The incident occurred a little while before the outbreak of the Black Hawk war, and Lincoln took part in the excitement, proclaiming as his chief political tenet the improvement of the Sangamon, to the unstinted applause of his fellow- villagers. And behold ! what is this which appears to them gathered on their bluff and peering down the river? In the early spring of 1832 they see an actual steamboat pufnng up the stream at liigh flood to New Salem, and then pushing on to a land- ing near Springfield, The latter place gave a grand reception and ball at the court house to the bold sailors who had brought the vessel all the way from Cincinnati. The Taluman, for such was its magical name, evoked great excitement along the Sangamon Valley, and had the power of putting the inhabitants under a spell of blinding enchant- ment, causing them to lose, if not their eye-sight, at least their mind-sight. In a week the high waters were running out and the boat had to hurry down stream, reaching the Illinois river with great difficulty, chiefly through the dexterity of its two pilots, one of whom was Lincoln. It too had 138 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. trouble at Rutledge's dam like the flat-boat. He had also assisted in bringing it up stream, so that he was becoming well acquainted with the channel of the Sangamon — ^knowledge which he will soon bring into play. Indeed he had already studied the stream with care, as we see by his first political document, already considered. Let the outcome of the election be stated as far as it interests us: Candidate Lincoln is defeated. In both his autobiographic notices he declares with just pride that this was the only time he was ever beaten by the people. His further declara- tion runs: "His own precinct, however, casting its votes, 277 for him and 7 against him," evidenced his popularity at New Salem, and especially that of his cause, the improvement of the Sangamon. But the rest of the county thought otherwise, for the Sangamon could not wash every man's farm, nor float a steamboat to every village. Moreover it was a Presidential year (1832) in which a straight ticket is usually voted by both parties. Lincoln had become a Henry Clay Whig, though he seems to have been a Jackson man or (boy) in 1828. Hence he says with pardonable self-gratulation : "the pre- cinct the autumn afterward gave a majority of 115 to General Jackson over Mr. Clay." On the whole this judgment of the People in defeating Lincoln this time will have to be affirmed. That double-acting, reversible law of usury was a poor recommendation for a legislator. The San- THE BOOK OF THE LAW. 139 gamon cannot be made a navigable stream, improve it as we may, on account of a primary deficiency of the fluid which floats vessels, even if it has floated Lincoln into New Salem, its greatest act of naviga- tion. " Go back, go back to your studies, especially to the study of the law," cries the Genius presiding over his destiny, "and I shall whirl down to you out of the Heavens, an unexpected book, nothing less than the greatest preparatory law-book ever written, thi'ough which you can begin to get your- self ready for your coming vocation." Lincoln could not help obeying as the pressure of stern necessity lay upon him; but let our reader weigh the miraculous message, awaiting, with some ex- pectancy and possibly with no little dubitation, the fulfilment of its promise, wliich is now to be recounted. VII. The Book of the Law. A new Book which we may call theBook of the Law, is in these days delivered into the hands of Abraham Lincoln, not exactly by the Supreme Giver in person, as long ago happened to the old Hebrew legislator on Mount Sinai, but in a way which we may call Chance, if we like, or if we are religiously inclined, Providence. Let it not be forgotten that Lincoln has often been hailed the new Moses by people strongly imbued with the Old Testament, chiefly for his leadership of the 140 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. black race out of their bondage, and also of the white race to a higher freedom. And a chief hand he certainly took in bringing forth a new Law and transformed Constitution for his country. Some four years and more have passed since the Book of Institutions dropped into his Indiana hfe, making an epoch in his development. But that Book, we must suppose, he had to leave behind with its owner when he migrated to Illinois. Since then he has seemingly done very little legal reading, so deeply occupied has be been with his river- nymph, Sangamona, with the alarms of war, with the game of politics, with the ups and downs of that feverish settlement, New Salem. One gift of his, indeed, that of story-telling, has been al- ways in demand, and has largely absorbed his mind's activity, since the response to it was imme- diate, intoxicating, triumphant. But really his art was not the end but a means, existing not for its own sake, but to be an instrument of his deeper destiny. So he must be turned back into the serious purpose of life, which was that he be- come the leader of his people to a new institutional Hberty. A little too much drifting freedom he has enjoyed in that drifting community of New Salem. Indeed in a number of ways, econom- ically, politically, yea, intellectually, he has almost drifted to zero, to downright negation, which is finding its expression in his skepticism. But upon such a world-view falls now a peculiar experience THE BOOK OF THE LAW. 141 which suggests somewhat of a supernal Prevision over him. And at least so much can be declared: a new Book is brought to him, the complement, yea, the fulfilment of that Book of Institutions which he has been compelled to leave behind in Indiana. Some few months after his political defeat, probably during the summer of 1833, a man in a covered wagon with family and household effects drove up in front of Lincoln's store and begged him to buy an old barrel full of trumpery for which he had no room in his straitened vehicle. He never said what it contained, and Lincoln, in kindness of heart, bought it, paying him, "I think, half a dollar for it." The man who was apparently moving to the West, at once vanished with his wagon into vacuity, having fulfilled in his passage through New Salem his considerable part in determining the career of Abraham Lincoln. For when the bar- rel was turned upside down and emptied on the floor some days afterwards, at the bottom of all the rubbish came forth a complete edition of Black- stone's Commentaries, just the book of all others needful for his next step at that time. A most valuable and unexpected prize had been secreted in that old barrel, and brought to New Salem by some unknown hand, and delivered to Lincoln in person — what shall we say to it? A fortunate accident men would call it now, having little faith in the Gods; but may it please the reader to look 142 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST, back again at old Homer (as already we have glimpsed old Moses), who would surely say that such an occurrence came from above, being the work of Pallas Athena, who in the guise of a stran- ger appeared to the man in the wagon with the mysterious barrel, and constrained him by divine command to dispose of it at the store in the vil- lage for fifty cents. Thus the Goddess is seen to be always looking out for her special ward, Tele- machus Lincoln, and now provides for him at the right moment the right kind of Printed Page in the slack days of New Salem. Lincoln himself knew well the value of the prize he had drawn in this strange lottery of the Gods, providential enough to rouse a ground-swell of that superstition which the illuminated biog- rapher has so often traced somewhat con- descendingly in his character. Still the reporter of the foregoing occurrence has not told these inner and deeper surges of Lincoln's soul seldom break- ing out to the surface in speech, but has preserved his own statement of the mighty outward impact which he received from the new-found book: "I began to read those famous works, and I had plenty of time, for during the long sunmier days, when the farmers were busy with their crops, my customers were few and far between. The more I read, the more intensely interested I became. Never in my whole life was my mind so thoroughly absorbed. I read until I devoured them." Truly THE BOOK OF THE LAW. 143 it is the right book fallen as it were out of the skies at the right moment ; it is as a whole appropriated, internalized, made an integral element of his in- tellectual equipment for the future, he having plenty of leisure just now for the task. And yet Blackstone's Commentaries is not such an easy book to master. It reads not Hke the newspaper or novel, and there is a good deal of it. But we see that Lincoln was prepared. We recollect how he read the Revised Statutes of Indi- ana back on Little Pidgeon Creek, and the import- ant political and legal documents therewith pub- lished. Such was his introduction to the law and its peculiar nomenclature. That book however, was confined to the United States and their Ameri- can origins. But in Blackstone he reaches back to their remoter source in English law and history — a vast widening of his horizon. He now has come to the well-head of his country's Institutions, and drinks of it with intense delight. For Lincoln had a genetic mind, truly creative on its political side; in Blackstone he could feed his creativity witness- ing and re-creating in thought the birth and devel- opment of the institutional world that lay about him. Perchance he could see the original fountain of those Indiana Statutes, for they were all made by men trained in Blackstone and the English Law. Surely a divinely sent gift .of Pallas Athena, be it given at Ithaca or at New Salem, we may deem this Book of the Law. 144 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. And let us behold Lincoln absorbed in his Black- stone, lying on the village green during the hot days of summer in the shade of a tree, not far from his store, this being allowed to take care of itself, which it can easily do, having almost no custom. Upon his back he often reposes with his bare feet stuck up the trunk of the tree, his favorite atti- tude for concentration. Reports an observer: "His tow-linen pantaloons I thought about five inches too short in the legs, and fre(iuently he had but one suspender, no vest or coat. He wore a calico shirt," and on his head, when he arose, was slouched "a straw hat, old style, without any band." Very unconventional and regardless of the outer world must our Lincoln have been while immersed in the study of his new Book of the Law. He would read and recite to himself while walk- ing to and from Springfield, out of the Printed Page before him ; when darkness came on, he would go to the cooper!s shop, the friendly owner having given permission to make a fire with the refuse shavings, by whose light he would read "far into the night." Amid his duties he would seize his book if leisure came to him, were it only "five min- utes' time." The strange epiphany of this Book of the Law dropping directly upon Lincoln's path, evidently threw a mighty influence over him, recalling in a kind of atlmonition, and emphasizing vivitlly the goal of his career, so that he starts out afresh toward LINCOLN IN BUSINESS. 145 it, with an ever-renewing zest and tireless industiy. In one direction at least he begins to get settled in that unsettled New Salem. (The preceding account is derived from the St. Louis artist, Mr. A. J. Conant, to whom Lincoln told the story, while sitting for his portrait in 1860. See Miss Tarbell's Life of Lincoln, I, p. 93. It should be added that there is another report, ac- cording to which Lincoln borrowed his Blackstone from the lawyer of a neighboring town. Indeed two borrowings of the work from two different men, each of a different town, have become cur- rent in the Folk-Lore about the early Lincoln in Illinois, ever getting more diversified and diver- gent). VIII. Lincoln in Business. Indeed! Now it may be predicted that our "piece of floating driftwood," having drifted into business, will get anchored at last, or will make of it a drifting business and float soon into bankruptcy, particularly in that village, itself adrift. Still another shifting part, then, Lincoln has to play during these variegated years, 1832-1, in addition to those parts already mentioned — boat-man, clerk, athlete, soldier, fabulist and the rest ; it is said that he even went back to rail-splitting for a while dur- ing this time. But now he is to become a merchant without money, a capitalist without capital, and 146 ABRAHAM LINCOLN —PART FIRST. live another chapter in his Book of Experience al- ready getting bulky. Lincohi's political defeat was probably the best thing for him at the time; he was not yet ready to go to the State Legislature, so the presiding Powers turned him back to study and greater maturity. Yet he must find something to do, having no occu- pation and no work after the election. He evi- dently liked clerking in a store for its many oppor- tunities of seeing people, of practising his gifts of discussion and story-telling, and specially for the leisure it gave him to contmue his reading. But there was no appreciative Offut to hire him in any one of the four stores of the place. It was suggested that he become a blacksmith, for which nature had fitted him ))y his great strength and by the wide swing of his arms for wielding the sledge hammer. But it has been handed down that Lincoln did not take kindly to hard labor ; an old farmer said he was no hand to pitch into work "like killing snakes;" he preferred to be inwardly occupied. The country store as the center of the village is his true place; in a store he must be and so at last he succeeds in buying one by simply giving his promissoiy note. Since he eould not be clerk, he was going to be pro- prietor. Thus, however, he ventures upon a new and treacherous sea, that of indebtedness, of which he is to have many a bitter experience. But it was so easy at the start to get things without paying for LINCOLN IN BUSINESS. 147 them, he being quite unconscious of the clay of reckoning. So easy was it that he buys two other stores on crecUt, whose owners wished to get rid of them — not a good sign of the town's prosperity or of his coming success. A partner too, he picks up, by the name of Berry, who had no good name in the community, being a dissipated and riotous young fellow. The firm of Lincoln & Berry had acciuired a considerable stock of liquors of which the junior partner was the chief salesman and best customer. Lincoln, very temperate in his habits, never tasting strong drink or even using tobacco, not only found leisure but created it for his studies, at the expense of strict attention to business. He scoured the ncighJDorhood for books, and got hold of a Rollin and a Gibbon, which he read while with Berry. If he mastered those two works, he certainly gained no contemptible outfit in Ancient History. The great states and the great person- ages of Greece and Rome had at least been intro- duced to him. We may query whether the skep- tical tendency which he showed about this time was fed by Gibbon's famous chapters against Christianity. To Gibbon may be added the other great disbelievers of the Eighteenth Century : the Frenchmen Voltaire and Volney, and the American Tom Paine, writings of all of whom are declared to have fallen into Lincoln's hands at this time, and to have been the subject of discussions at the store and tavern, Lincoln, of course, tak- 148 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. ing part, and even writing the book already alluded to. We have to infer that he was not a good store- keeper. The establishment evidently fell in twain, the drinking department being presided over by Berry, and the story-telling department conducted by Lincoln. The latter, however, was always grasping after something to be learned. So we must set down that in these days Lincoln had plenty of time to go a-fishing with Jack Kelso, an incessant spouter of Burns and Shakespeare, for whose beauties he had a genuine appreciation. Otherwise Jack is reported to have been a shiftless vagabond, living by little odd-jobs, and chiefly by sponging on the charitable, notably on Lincoln. But he is the man who has come down to us as hav- ing inducted Lincoln into a new poetic world quite different from anything which he had previously known. Particularly Shakespeare will remain a companion of Lincoln for many years. Thus our apprentice seems to be taking quite a course in History and Literature while store-keeping. Novels too he read with delight, having a decided relish for fiction. Newspapers were also within his reach, and the politician devoured them with avidity. Desultory indeed is such a training, but it has the considerable advantage of not being foisted upon the student, who in the present case makes his college course as he goes along, selecting his materials, scanty enough, from his environment. LINCOLN IN BUSINESS. 149 But how many youths would be equal to such a taek? Behold, a new but small business comes to him ; he is made Postmaster of New Salem, May 7th, 1833, presenting the marvel of a Whig holding office under Democratic Andrew Jackson. The mail came irregularl}', but it averaged once a week, and it is stated that ''he carried the office around in his hat," whicli remained his personal receptacle for letters and papers through life. There is little doubt that Lincoln took the office for the sake of the opportunity it gave him of reading the current news and literature of the day. He had, it seems, the permission, or perchance the privilege of perusing the printed matter, newspapers, and maga- zines, which came through the mails. We must recollect the political excitement of this time: nullification in South Carolina, and her conflict with President Andrew Jackson; great speeches in the Senate by Webster and Calhoun, oratorical protagonists of Union and Disunion; the contro- versy over the National Bank; the discussion of the tariff question. So we may see Postmaster Abraham Lincoln when the mail has arrived, care- fully removing the wrapper from every newspaper, which he reads and then puts back into its wrapper, depositing it in his Post Office Hat for delivery to its subscriber who may live miles in the country. So too, he treats the less frequent magazine, and perchance the stray paper-covered novel whose 150 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. leaves he will kindly cut for its owner. Truly Lincoln is swallow^ing his whole environment, all its knowledge, all its vocations, all its institutions; if not the cosmic egg, at least the New Salem one he will suck dry, no doubt to the neglect of that spirit-confining business of his. One gap in New Salem as well as in Lincoln, must be marked: we hear of little or no music in their existence, ex- cept the sweet voice of Aim Rutledge who was a soulful singer of ballads and hymns. But where is the village fiddler with his jigs, reels, hornpipes, from the "Devil's Dream" to "Rory O'Moore"? It is said that Lincoln found one at Vandalia when he went there as representative, and was charmed by his art. Even this musician has been hunted up and has handed in his report from w^hich we snip a shred: "I would take the fiddle with me when I went over to visit him (Lincoln, in his quarters at Vandalia) and when he grew weary of telling stories, he would ask me to give him a tune, which I never refused to do." Lincoln meanwhile has quite abandoned the store to Berry, who drank himself to death in the business, as he died not long after. The stock of groceries had run low and was sold on credit to two brothers, both scamps, who soon absconded. The result of Lincoln's mercantile career was a pile of debts with no money to pay them ; all the accu- mulated obligations of the business for tv\'o 3Tars fell to his share in the end. Thus a heavy burden LINCOLN IN BUSINESS. 151 was put upon him at his economic start in life and worried him for many years before it was paid, for he assumed all the liabilities. He was in the habit of comparing it with the State debt, for Illinois made a wild venture not dissimilar to that of Lin- coln in New Salem, who will help the whole State do what he did, by his vote in the Legislature — favoring the so-called public improvements, such as the improvement of the Sangamon. But that is a little ahead of our narrative. At present we are to see that rock of Tantalus, in the shape of an ever-threatening debt, which Lincoln has gotten suspended over his head for a consider- able part of his life-time and which seems always ready to fall down crushingly upon him and his — the fateful outcome of his venture in merchantry at New Salem. Says his partner, Herndon: ''Even as late as 1848 he sent to me from Washington por- tions of his salary as Congressman to be applied on the unpaid remnant, of the Berry & Lincoln in- debtedness," — that is, fifteen years afterward, and it still ran on — "but in time he extinguished it all, even to the last penny." Penitential rock of Tantalus hung in mid air by Zeus over the mortal victim for his transgression the old Greek poet Pindar fabled in his mythical world, and sang a strain applicable to Lincoln and any other Tantalus overcanopied with debt: "Therefore shall he be forsaken of all joy, and be made a wanderer from happiness." 152 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. Once indeed a piece of that suspended Tantalus rock broke loose, fell down with a crash and smote him to the earth for a time, in the shape of one of those promissory notes which came due and was not paid. Lincoln's horse, saddle and bridle, and worst of all, his surveying instruments, by which he was slowly earning his economic freedom, were levied upon, seized by the constable and exposed for sale to the highest bidder. But kind-hearted Uncle Jimmy Short, a farmer of Sand Ridge, hear- ing of the trouble and feeling the impulse to be a small Providence, hastened to the rescue, and bought back all the articles at the sale for 120 dollars, and then restored them to the owner. But many such beetling crags still hang over Lincoln's head, minatory; well may a snake-like 'anxiety keep crawling over him, lest the next tim.e such a provi- dential interference in his behalf may not take place. Let it be added that Lincoln when Presi- dent rewarded his benefactor with a small office, which the latter filled, we hope, without detri- ment to the public service, IX The Two Calhouns. In this same eventful year, 1833, two gentlemen by the name of Calhoun, became interwoven with the course of Lincoln's life. Each of them also was called John Calhoun, indeed each of them has THE TWO CALHOUN S. 153 come down to posterity designated as John C. Cal- houn. The one was a Southerner and belonged to South Carolina, as all the world knows; the other was a Northerner, in fact a New Englander who had migrated to Springfield, IlHnois. Both, how- ever, were Democrats, and took a political turn quite opposite to that of Lincoln. First we shall cast a glance at what John Cald- well Calhoun of South Carolina was doing. On January 22, 1833, two days after the introduction of Jackson's Force Bill, the following resolutions were offered by Calhoun in the Senate of the United States : (1) "Eesolved that the people of the sev- eral States comprising these United States are united as parties to a Constitutional Compact, to which each State acceded as a separate Sovereign community." Here is the assertion that the Union is a Com- pact between the Single-States, and that each Single-State as sovereign took part in the Compact and acceded to the same Now it is this view of the Union which Lincoln, we may suppose, begins already in 1833 to grapple with in thought, and which he is at last to meet by argument and then by force in 1861, (2) ''Resolved that the .people of the several States . . . delegated to the General Govern- ment certain definite })owcrs . , . and that the same Government is not made the final judge of 154 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. the powers delegated to it . . . but each State has the right to judge for itself, as well of the in- fraction as of the mode and measure of redress." There is another Resolution to the same general effect, but these two (somewhat abbreviated as they stand here) tell the national wrestle of the time, and show the idea which was discussed in all the newspapers, and on the street-corners and in the village-stores of every nook of the land. The Folk-Soul is struggling over the question which may be thus stated : Which has the primacy in our form of Government: the Single-State or the Union? Clearly the doctrine of Calhoun as- serts the primacy of the Single-State, which has the right of initiative in withdrawing from the Union, or the right of Secession. Now the curious fact comes to the surface that it is just this problem which Lincoln will be called upon to deal with when he enters the Presidency twenty-eight years later. The chief burden of his first Inaugural (1861) is the Primacy of the Union: "No State of its own mere notion can lawfully get out of the Union." One may be permitted to think that he must have deeply pondered the subject when the air was resounding all over the land with the words of Calhoun: "each State has the right to judge for itself" in disregard of the General Government, even of the Supreme Court of the United States. It should be added that the ground of South THE TWO CALHOUN S. 155 Carolina's Nullification in 1832 was economical, her dislike of the tariff. But the ground of her Se- cession in 18G0 was based openly on the support of Slavery. Disunion has thus in the intervening time allied itself to another principle, in order that both be destroyed together, chiefly through Lin- coln. In answer to the foregoing Resolutions, Daniel Webster entered the Senatorial arena against Calhoun with a speech, which, report de- clares, was consulted by Lincoln in the preparation of his first Inaugural. There is little doubt, then, than John Caldwell Calhoun was a prominent factor in Lincoln's early political training, chiefly, by way of determent. Clay's Compromise TarifT of 1833 caused the South Carolina trouble to sub- side, but Lincoln never forgot the lesson. And on the other hand the South never forgot Calhoun's teachings. Thus the two sides of the Civil War may be seen emerging dimly before the mind of Lincoln in 1833 and indeed before the Nation itself. Well may the reader imagine our Lincoln choos- ing his seat in some quiet nook and ''cocking up his legs higherthanhis head," after which prepara- toiy act he takes off his hat, more lucky for him than the wishing-cap of Fortunatus, and picks out of it the newspaper from some large city contain- ing in full the speeches of Calhoun and Webster upon the burning question of the hour. Uncon- sciously they open up before him a sudden vista 156 4.BRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. of his own future, like a burst of sunlight through the intervening clouds. We may see him taking his side in the conflict and forming his first resolu- tion then, though much is still to evolve in him and in the Folk-Soul. But that wonderful Post Office Hat of his — we have found its place also in his Apprenticeship. Still there is no money in it, and none can be shaken out of it by the deftest magician — and Lincoln has reached the point at , which he must have a little money. And now we pass to the second Calhoun who is also a politician and a great disputant upon his party's policies ; his field, however, is not the Sen- ate of the United States, but the streets and stores of Springfield, IlUnois, with spouting excursions into Sangamon County, which, being strongly Democratic, has elected him its surveyor. He had heard of Lincoln, and for some reason, was prompted to appoint him, though a Whig, as his deputy. He sent a messenger to New Salem, who found Lincoln in the woods not far off splitting rails — in which he was a greater adept than in keeping store. He accepted the position, as there seemed to be some much-needed money in it, un- der condition of not sacrificing his political views or their expression. Also time was allowed him for learning the business, as he did not know survey- ing. Thus it befell in the year 1833 that a new public office dropped into Lincoln's lap (not into his hat THE TWO CALHOUNS. 157 this time) quits unexpectedly, that of assistant to John Calhoun, the county surveyor, who had an excess of business at this juncture. Calhoun is de- clared to have been a Yankee and seems to have been no relative of the South Carolinian of the same name, who, as we have seen, was making a great stir in the nation this very year through the Nullification excitement. Our Illinois Calhoun had been bred to the law, but took to school- mastering in early Springfield, by preference it is said, in which vocation he showed a peculiar ex- cellence. He was an esteemed citizen, and held public offices of trust, having been not only sur- veyor of the county but also mayor of the town. Herndon gives a warm eulogy of him based on personal acquaintance, putting a high estimate both on his character and ability. He cites also Lincoln's view of the man: "I have heard Lincoln say that Calhoun gave him more trouble in his debates than Douglas ever did, because he was more captivating in his manner and a more learned man than Douglas." So far Herndon, who, how- ever, says nothing here of Calhoun's later Kansas career, which he must have known, but like a good lawyer, quietly passes over as not altogether favorable to his client's side. But tliis other side must not be wholly left out. Some twenty-five years later we find this same John Calhoun in Kansas as surveyor-general of the Territory, then in the deepest throes of its struggle 158 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. with the slave-power. From surveying he passed into politics, and has come down to us not only as hostile to the freedom of Kansas but as the perpetrator of some of the worst partisan frauds on record. A Committee of the Legislature, get- ting on track of his fraudulent returns found them secreted in a candle-box under a wood-pile at Le- compton near Calhoun's office. It was shown that a forged list of 379 votes had been substituted for the original memorandum of only 43 votes, for the benefit of the pro-slavery candidates. From this incident the wrathful Kansans re-baptized him as John Candlehox Calhoun, under which name he seems destined to fill his little place in History. They caused his arrest, but he was liberated by pro-slavery Judge Cato on habeas corpus, after which he took a bee-line for Missouri and thence to Washington — not to Springfield, where his former assistant surveyor Lincoln was preparing to challenge Douglas and to take his first great stride toward the Presidency. Calhoun was also presiding officer of the fraud- ulent Convention which concocted the political imposture known as the Lecompton Constitution, which gave the people of Kansas so much trouble, and which he seems to have largely devised him- self apart from the Convention. Still the Lecomp- ton Constitution of Calhoun was supported and probably instigated by the Buchanan Administra- tion at Washington. Bad work is this for our THE TWO CALHOUN S. 159 Yankee schoolmaster. Then it would seem that Calhoun tried to bribe the Kansas Governor, Walker, to the support of his Constitution by the offer of the Presidency of the United States, which he somehow held in the hollow of his hand. But note the fact that on the 2nd day of February, 1858, President Buchanan transmits to Congress the Lecompton Constitution "received from J. Cal- houn Esq. duly certified by liimself," recommend- ing that Kansas be adniittod as a Slave State under it. But be it said to his credit that he befriended Lincoln at a critical moment and enabled him to earn some money when it was sorely needed, after his total business collapse at New Salem. The kind act was surprising when we hear that a Dem- ocrat bestowed a political office upon an avowed Whig who insisted upon maintaining his freedom of opinion. Still more surprising does Calhoun's procedure seem when we learn that Lincoln had no preparation in surveying, and had to start studying it with Mentor Graham, the New Salem schoolmaster. Calhoun seems to have provided him with a text-book on surveying, Flint & Gib- son's, and to have waited for him to get ready. Tradition has it that in six weeks' time Lincoln had fairly mastered the subject, and reported for duty, having nearly killed himself meanwhile with studying. So two John C. Calhouns, John Caldwell and 160 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. John Candlebox, one local, and the other national, get spun into Lincoln's life-thread about 1833. Each of them plays his peculiar part in bolstering a doomed political order, to which Lincoln mainly gives the final blow. Each in his separate sphere had a common attitude; each took his stand against the movement of the age. Each had his little tussle with the World-Spirit, and of course got thrown. In contrast to both Calhouns, Lin- coln was not only harmonious with his time's deep- est aspirations, but became its grand representa- tive and realizer, of course when the pivotal moment came long afterwards. Far better had it been for John Candlebox Cal- houn, had he remained a blameless and fameless pedagogue in Springfield, and won the admiration of grateful pupils like Herndon, who calls him "a typical gentleman — brave, intellectual, self-pos- sessed and cultivated. As an instructor he was the popular one of his day and age. I attended the school he taught when I was a boy .... Lincoln, I know respected and admired him." But ambition or adventure or what not led him in a fateful moment to Kansas where he has won a strange historic immortality, as if his were the name of a very devil who sought to overthrow the freedom of Kansas through a fraud resembling that of the Father of Lies. The result is that to-day the average Kansan, having still the ten- dency to fight afresh the old battles along with THE TWO CALHOUNS. 161 John Brown's soul marching on, would stand ready at any minute to tackle the ghost of John Candlebox Calhoun, and with a volley of execra- tion to give it a blow, in memory at least, which would hurl it down to Dante's Inferno amid the spirits forever damned, landing it in the big Bulge or infernal Circle of sinners fraudulent. But the biographer, having duly noticed his Kansas career, will prefer to spend the last remi- niscence upon him as the benefactor of Lincoln at a very trying moment. For the poor youth, hav- ing failed in business, being overwhelmed with debt, and having no remunerative calling, and worried by duns and demands upon him from his poverty-stricken parents, obtains through Cal- houn, not then Candlebox, the best-paying subor- dinate position in Sangamon County probably, for he receives three dollars a day, which was almost equal to the pay of the Governor of the State of Illinois, whose salary at this time was one thousand dollars a year. So too we can understand biog- rapher Herndon warmly interceding with History to spare his Springfield Calhoun and forgetting to say anything about the Kansas Candlebox Calhoun, though the latter of the two did by far the more famous deed, which rose for a little while into national importance, and made him a small speck or rather a blotch on the page of History. 11 162 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. X. The New Salem Solon. And now Lincoln, having done many Greek parts of a lesser heroic cast in our modern Homeric village, will grapple for and actually reach the highest — that of Lawgiver, re-enacting again in his way great men of old, to be sure without knowing it. Nor will he make laws now directly for the one small community or for the city-state of antique pattern, as did Solon, Lycurgus, Demonax and the other ancient Lawgivers; the single com- munity is not now separate and autonomous, but conjoined into a larger poHtical totahty (the State) and this again into a still larger (the Federal Union) — an institutional order unknown to the old Hellenic world. Lincoln is chosen to sit in a body of lawmakers from every part of Illinois, and he is to legislate for the whole State and not merely for his little village; thus he begins to rise out of the Community into the Commonwealth, yea, out of the Commonwealth he is to expand into the Nation, starting from that small transitoiy dot called New Salem. Such an outlook we may trace in him, when he goes forth as legislator to Vanda- lia, Capital of the State, really a great stride on his road to Washington, which road is the inner connecting line of his whole career. The pertinacity with which Lincoln seeks dur- ing his whole New Salem period to be a law-maker THE NEW SALEM SOLON. 163 or member of the law-making body, is one of his sahent traits. We have ab'eady seen how that in the earhest days of the earhest spring month, March, 1832, he announced himself as a candidate for the Illinois House of Representatives. His first glimpse of the town and people was gotten from his flat-boat lodged there on the dam in the pre- ceding April. Hardly six months had passed since he, returning from his flat-boat trip, had located in the village as Offut's clerk. Very rapid promo- tion was that, even for a popular youth. A con- siderable amount of self-confidence, yea, of self- esteem, shows itself in such a bold attempt, which indeed reveals a settled strain of his character. His vocation, which was to deal with the Law, and with the State, was already lustily throbbing within him and pushing him to action. He obtained his first impulse in this direction while a boy in Indiana, by hearing pohtical speeches, which usually turned on some legal or constitutional question, by attending law-suits be- fore the squire as well as the judge, and chiefly by studying the Revised Laws of Indiana, with the appended documents — the Book of Institutions whose significance in the development of Lincoln has been already noted. Little opportunity in Illinois does he seem to have had as yet for realiz- ing his soul's aspiration, till in 1832 it suddenly burst forth in his candidacy. Naturally he was then beaten; but at the next opportunity, which 164 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. has now come, he proposed to try again for the same prize. Accordingly, in the year 1834, the time for a new election of Legislators has arrived, and Lin- coln again offers himself as candidate. He is now better acquainted, his surveyorship has brought » him in contact with the People and made his char- acter known. Moreover, he is much better pre- pared; in his Blacks tone he has conned the under- lying principles of Anglo-Saxon legislation, and studied the evolution of institutions. Now he seeks to take a practical step forward in order to realize his theoretical knowledge. He drives an active canvass, in which he makes speeches, tells stories, and even shows his physical superiority in wrestling, lifting weights and cradling grain. He was reaching out for the Folk-Soul everywhere and found it. He was elected this time by a handsome majority — ''by the highest vote cast for any can- didate," says one account which, however, is con- tested. But one thing is certain: we shall never hear again of anything in his legislative proposals like that double-acting, reversible law of usury, capable of being enforced or violated according to the necessities of justice, which law he had pro- posed in his Address two years before. Let us think that to some purpose he has been reading his Blackstone. It was during this canvass of 1834 that another pivotal opportunity came to him, that of studying THE NEW SALEM SOLON. 165 law. The yoice of the Goddess this time spoke through Major John T. Stuart, fellow-candidate now and once fellow-soldier in the Black Hawk War, also a Springfield lawyer in good practice. Lincoln, in autobiographic third person, speaks of him thus: "During the canvass in a private con- versation he encouraged Abraham to study law. After the election he (Abraham) borrowed books of Stuart, took them home with him, and went at it in good earnest. He studied with nobody ; mixed in the surveying to pay board and clothing bills." In one sense Lincoln had been study- ing law a good while. The law-books alluded to in the foregoing account could not have included Blackstone, which he had alreiidy studied, but were the more professional works, as Chitty's Pleadings, Greenleaf's Evidence and Storey's Equity, all of which he recommended later to a young man aspiring to become a lawyer. Lincoln had already mastered a book of legal forms so that he could draw up deeds, contracts, and various legal instru- ments, for which work he was soon in demand at New Salem as well as for practicing before the local squire. Outside of his duties as legislator and surveyor the study of the law must have been his chief occu- pation for the two following years (1834-6). Says he of himself, "When the Legislature met, the law- books were dropped, but were taken up again at the end of the session." As sm'veyor he was far 166 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. more successful than as a store-keeper, though he had to deal with the most sensitive and the most grasping part of the Anglo-Saxon character, namely its love or rather greed for land. When metes and bounds had to be re-adjusted and corners placed anew, (the early United States surveys were often very careless) the old farmer who lost a speck of soil would get fighting-mad, deeming the whole transaction an attempt to steal his land. Our Quaker Hercules could meet him in the tug of war, if need be; but Lincoln had a reconcihng spirit, and everybody felt his justice. Through him such altercations ended in peace rather than a fight or an ugly stake-and-rider devil's fence, sign of bitter feud between adjoining land-owners. So great was his success in this ticklish business, and so general the belief in his fairness that the country districts of Sangamon County, though Democratic, rolled up a heavy vote in favor of the Whig can- didate for the Legislature from New Salem. Accordingly with a new suit of clothes, for buy- ing which he had to borrow the money, Lincoln sets out late in 1834 for the Capitol at Vandalia, town of the Vandals, we may suppose by its name. He is not prominent as a member, he is learning, the Legislature is for him a school, a stage of his Apprenticeship. He becomes trained to parlia- mentary usage. He gets acquainted with the po- litical leaders from every part of the State. He sees the governmental machine working at its THE NEW SALEM SOLON. 167 center with its threefold powers — legislative, exec- utive, judicial. Constitutional questions he hears discussed by able lawyers. In fine he beholds what he had hitherto only known theoretically, become the practical working fact before his eyes; what he once read in his Indiana book of Statutes, he sees taking on the reality of government. At Vandalia for amusement he would have a story-tehing bee of good fablers, in which he natur- ally took the chief part and which would increase his stock, as he is reported to have noted down all the best stories which he heard. Then Major Walker, the cat-gut virtuoso, would appear with his fiddle, and give the company a tune, a rural sample of his art not pitched too high for his listeners, which would set their feet to stamping time, and perchance to a shuffle round the floor. But amid all this boisterous sport one cannot help peeping into the depths of Lincoln's heart and glimpsing the agitation there at this date. Well might he whis})er inwardly at the sweet sounds of his musical visitor a line of Shakespeare's lover voicing his own deepest emotion: "If music be the food of love, play on!" For Lincoln had brought to Vandalia this year the deepest passion of his life, surging around a fair image which could never have been absent from his thoughts. And then behold! another figure appears at Vandalia during Lincoln's first session — never loved by him; his life's competitor and counter- 168 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. part, verily his antitype outside and inside, phys- ically and mentally. For the first time Stephen A. Douglas comes into Lincoln's horizon, never wholly to pass out of it till he passes beyond. XI. Lincoln and Douglas (I). The first blow in the long and at times desper- ate political battle between the Big and Little Giant, as the twain came to be called in Illinois, was struck by Lincoln as member of the Legisla- ture at Vandalia in 1835. He cast his vote against Douglas, who was seeking the office of State's at- torney of his judicial district, whom the Legisla- ture was empow^ered to elect. Douglas, then only twenty-two years old, who had but recently come into the State, and more recently still had been admitted to the bar, was seeking his first public office, and possessed already the valuable gift of blowing his own horn. For he, with hardly a year's experience of the law to his credit, was elected over his rival, John J. Hardin, a capable and experienced lawyer, and moreover, a popular man, who afterwards* fell in the Mexican War. Of course politics had much to do with the elec- tion, as Hardin was a Whig and Douglas a Demo- crat appealing to a Democratic Legislature. Still the affair shows the early skill of Douglas in politi- cal manipulation, for he had to meet in competi- LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS {1). 169 tion old war-horses of his own party. The selec- tion, however, caused a good deal of unfavorable comment, especially among the Judiciary. An old judge (reported by Sheahan in his Life of Douglas), exclaimed indignantly: "What business has such a stripling with such an office? He is no lawyer and has no law-books." Still it is agreed that Douglas vindicated himself in his position, for surely he was not wanting in capacity for the task. So Douglas opens his public career against the vote of Lincoln, who saw him active in the lobby, which already constituted the third House (un- legal if not illegal), of America's dual legislative system. The question comes up: if that third House always is and has to be, why not legalize it? At any rate, Lincoln and Douglas have now sighted each other, possiljly measured each other just a httle. Anyhow, the report has come down that Lincoln declared Douglas to be ''the least man I have ever seen." Certainly the statement is ambiguous, and probably has such ambiguity as its point, hinting remotely a correspondence between the physical and mental stature of the small man, with an unconscious preference on part of the speaker of his own tallness, of which it is known that Lincoln was proud all his days. Anti- pathetic at first glance we must deem them not only in politics but in character, with a wholly different moral substructure for the edifice of life. 170 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. Moreover, they already represent two opposite tendencies of their State, yea, of their time; these two tendencies, now just starting, will grow and widen till they bring the Nation into self-collision. Douglas was born in Vermont, and in early years worked at the trade of cabinet-maker; still he had the good Yankee primary schooling, and succeeded in obtaining a classical education. His life had been one of struggle, and he may be called a self-made man like Lincoln, though by no means to the degree or in the manner of Lincoln. Their striking polarity of character is seen in the fact that the born Southerner becomes the adversary of slavery, while the born Yankee becomes, if not the warm defender, at least the apologist of slavery. Douglas was four years younger than his rival and matured rapidly, far outstripping in his earlier career Lincoln, who was a slow grower but solid, and will overtake his fleet com- petitor in the final stretch for the goal which they both have in common. The two grand protagonists to whom so nmch of the future belongs, have now entered the public arena, eyeing each other for the first time — did they have any presentiment of the peculiar lot which was to link them together as opposites for a quarter of a century in a mutual relation ever re- pellent, till that last scene on the steps of the Na- tional Capitol? There is a remarkable evolution in this double movement of Lincoln and Douglas ANX RUTLEDGE. 171 whose main stages we shall try to indicate as we proceed in our narrative. But Lincoln has now delivered his first blow against Douglas^not per- sonal indeed, but partisan — -which blow, however, does not prevent the youthful contestant from carrying off the prize in the present case and often hereafter. Very little thought probably did Lincoln give to this matter or even to other weightier legislative matters at the present time; a far deeper, more intense problem, with which his heart was overflowing, awaited him at New Salem, whither he hastened as soon as the session closed, with hope and joy radiantly wreathing all his fancies during the whole journey, we must imagine, but at the same time with dark premonitions shooting up from the depths of his naturally foreboding soul cloud-wracks through the sunlit horizon of love. XIL Ann Rutledge. Said President-elect Lincoln to a New Salem friend, who was calling on him before his depar- ture for Washington, and who was led by the con- versation to ask him point-blank: "Lincoln, did you love Ann Rutledge?" "It is true, true, indeed I did. I have loved the name of Rutledge to this day .... I 172 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. did honestly and truly love the girl, and think often, often, of her now." (Lamon). Thus emphatically, after the lapse of a full quarter of a century, does Lincoln express his ever-present memory of Ann Rutledge, who had the power of exciting in him an undying love, which colored his whole being and hence forms an important chapter in his life. Her early evanishmcnt took a poetic form with him, and found utterance in some verses (not his own) which are usually entitled "Immortality," but which put their whole stress upon the transitoriness of all things human, preluding the pensive strain with "Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud? Like a swift-fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud, A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave. He passeth from life to his rest in the grave." As late as March, 1864, he repeated at the White House with strong* feeling the poem, which was for him a mournful reminder of Ann Rut- ledge, an ever-singiitg dirge of the soul over the vanished loved one, with the melancholy note of which his deepest emotions became concordant till the end of his days. Thus Lincoln reveals an immortal love, which will attune all the other throbbings of his heart, however profound and intense. But now let us go back and pick up the young man as he returns from his legislative career at Vandalia, with a consciousness of having taken his ANN RUTLEDGE. 173 fii-st considerable step in public life. He has won a position which is an earnest of something greater. A regard for himself he can now have as never before; he can deem himself right worthy of somewhat, be it what it may. There is no doubt also that he brought back another emotion hitherto hidden in his heart — love. He had long secretly folt the tender passion for a young lady we have already titled the fairest flower in the village. Hitherto her betrothal to another who seemed to have deserted her, and Lincoln's own lack of equal position and pos- sibly of self-estimation, had deterred him from pressing his suit. But all the obstacles seemed to get themselves slowly out of the way, and some time in the spring of 1835, while the birds were singing and the flowers were springing on the banks of the full-flowing Sangamon, these two young hearts, long beating with and for each other, were joined together in the sacred promise of eternal fidelity. Ann Rutledge was the daughter of the first cit- izen of the New Salem and one of its founders. James Rutledge, her father, was born in South Carolina, where his family had been distinguished in the early history of the country, especially dur- ing and just after the Revolution. The name of one ancestor, Edward Rutledge, is affixed to the Dec- laration of Independence; another was one of the first judges of the Supreme Court of the United 174 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. States. A great historic name was brought into the small town on the Sangamon, and it can be well understood that the family in the Far West did not neglect their genealogy. A certain pride as well as traditional feeling of superiority inbred in the Southerner, was not wanting even in the log-cabin tavern of New Salem, with its four rooms, numerous children, besides the guests. James Rutledge had migi'ated from his native State northward to Kentucky, where he stayed many years, and where his daughter Ann was born January 7th, 1813. For such has been the interest in Lincoln's love-idyl that the exact date has been dug up by the eager explorer. But the father was not satisfied with Kentucky, and so he crossed the Ohio River into Illinois and reached the site of New Salem in 1829. He was a man of hospitality, yet with an eye to business, keeping a store and a mill in the village — two important centers of its life. Somewhat strangely we read that he kept the town tavern, not the natural oc- cupation for a hospitable man. It is not known why he quit South Carolina and then Kentucky, and never stopped in his migration till he reached the central belt of a Free State. But his migra- tory act was typical of what was taking place in the 20's, 30's and 40's, indicating a movement from the old Slave States to the new Slave States, and thence to the new Free States of the North- West. It is substantially the line of Lincoln's ANN RUT LEDGE. 175 own ancestral migration, as already given (p. 27, 35). The main ground of these migrations was some questioning of the servile institution, and followed strongly the slavery agitation connected with the Missouri Compromise and the development of the cotton culture. It grew plain that the South would not throw off slavery through her own initiative; the line between Free States and Slave States became fixed, as Mason and Dixon's, though previously fluctuating. James Rutledge belonged to this great migration from the South to the North, whatever may have been his political sentiments. We may note, however, that in the Revolutionary period John Rutledge was a strong opponent of slavery (seeMcCrady's excellent History of South Carolina for this period). Much evidence has been gathered that Ann Rutledge was' the favorite belle of New Salem. Herndon, who knew her, declares that she was "a beautiful girl, and by her winning ways attached people to her so firmly that she soon be- came the most popular young lady of the Village." Another observer affirms that her intellect was "philosophic" as well as ''briUiant." For the favor of the young lady there was considerable rivalry among the young gallants of New Salem, when finally the prize was won by a suitor who went under the name of McNeil, seemingly about 1830 or 1831. This was not far from the time when Lincoln came drifting down the Sangamon into 176 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. New Salem (in 1831), being remembered by the people, and probably by Ann, too, for his exploit in bringing the flat-boat over her father's mill- dam. Just when the undercurrent of love began to be powerful in Lincoln's heart, cannot be told. He and Ann must have been often thrown together in that small spot. Lincoln boarded at her father's tavern in 1832, and then he saw much of her in her domestic life, thus becoming well acquainted with her character. Also, she went to school to Mentor Graham, the center of light in the town, with whom Lincoln had much to do, as we have already seen. In the Rutledge family there were probably traditions of classic culture. We hear that Ann and her brother went away to an academy in Jacksonville, for studying some branches out of the range of the village school- master. James Rutledge, the father, seems to have organized a Literary Club at New Salem, of which he was President, and before which Lin- coln made a speech that pleased Papa Rutledge much, for he talked about it at home to his wife, probably in Ann's presence (Lamon). But is it still possible to reach down to the common bond which kept bringing together young Lincoln and Ann Rutledge? The two had selected each other, overcoming inner opposition in spite of obstacles. Their love blossomed in their com- mon aspiration for a higher culture. They ANN RUT LEDGE. 177 alone of that whole community longed to rise above the low intellectual plane of the average New Salemite. We have to think that Ann's love for McNeil (or McNamar) was not destroyed, but divided — being shared unconsciously perhaps at first by another. And here lies her heart's con- flict, which ends in her tragedy — the conflict of two loves coupled with two ever-clashing duties. McNeil had shown himself an excellent business man, having in three years gained a half interest in the store w^here he began as a clerk, and hav- ing purchased a fine farm besides. Therein he far outstripped Lincoln. Being from the East, he had a good elementary education, which Lincoln had not. But he seems to have been- prosaic, all for business, esteeming the West for what he could make out of it by way of hard cash. Then there was the class obstacle, so strongly emphasized in Southern society. Lincoln belonged to the poor whites, to the second families; Ann was of aristocratic lineage — decidedly of the First Families. He did not fail to hear of the great Rutledges in that log-cabin of a tavern; the De- claration of Independence he had already conned with its names as a boy at Gentryvillc, in the Indiana Book of Institutions. The genealogical tree was that part of botany chiefly cultivated in the old States, South and North. In the West it was inclined to wither after the first genera- tion, to which the elder Rutledge still belonged. 12 178 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. Ann, his young daughter, probably had her waver- ings on this point also. And now the other side of the story enters — the prolonged and unexplained absence of her betrothed. McNeil's name was really McNamar; he had changed it for reasons which, as given by him, seem rather whimsical. This fact he had confided to his lady-love, who afterwards told the secret and thereby caused much gossip and conjecture in the village. McNeil, in the spring of 1834, resolved to go East, saying he wished to see his parents, and .bring them to the West. Then occurred the absence, interrupted by letters to Ann at long intervals. His conduct became the talk of the town, whose favorite lit- tle heroine was involved. Some of the views were bitter, he was branded as an adventurer, jail-bird, deceiver. But many who did not share this harsh opinion, regarded it as a case of cooled love. Ann herself thought so, and evidently Lincoln also, only too glad to slip into the vacant shoes. We must not forget that the engagement had already lasted three years, if not longer. In the meantime the ungainly youth had been rising till he was the man of the future in the place, and everybody could see it and ratified it by their votes. Now it was at this opportune time when Lin- coln stepped in and began to press his suit. McNeil had been absent a year in the spring of ANN RUT LEDGE. 179 1835. Lincoln had come home from his legisla- tive career, and was the rising star. The engage- ment followed; but marriage was again deferred till Lincoln could complete his legal training, and Ann could take a course of study at the Jack- sonville Academy. Two spiritually kindred souls we behold, united in the aspiration for higher de- velopment. Here we have the intellectual bond, twinned with the emotional one, which at last brought the two together and bound them in- dissolubly, and which had long been secretly pull- ing their heart-strings. And it was this new preference which slowly for years had been loosen- ing the one knot and tieing the other, till at last the sacred pledge has joined the twain. But such was the nature of Ann Rutledge that she could not make the transition from one love to the other; both nestled in her heart and tore it asunder like two wild beasts. The re-action came with an overwhelming intensity; conscience would upbraid her, fidelity scorned her, while she was dashed to and fro in resurgences to her old love and to her new. She fell sick, grew worse, Lincoln was sent for and stayed an hour at the side of the dying bride, who soon after passed away, August 25th, 1835. She was buried in the old Concord graveyard near New Salem, which afterward fell into neglect; but in 1890 her re- mains were transferred to the new Oakland cem- etery, where a stone marked simply Ann Rut- 180 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. ledge peers above the greensward. Thither tender souls have begun to make pilgrimages as they go to Verona for the sake of seeing the house of Romeo and Juliet. The effect of the blow upon Lincoln brought him into a state verging toward insanity. He was sent by his friends to a secluded home in the country, where he was sympathetically cared for by Mr. Bowling Greene and wife, who succeeded in bringing him back to a fair condition of mental health. It is stated that when Greene died in 1842, Lincoln was selected to deliver a funeral oration, but could not come to utterance owing to his emotion rising from past memories. This was seven years later, and the year of Lincoln's mar- riage with Miss Todd. He said to a friend that the thought that ''the snows and rains fall upon her grave fills him with indescribable grief." And the memory of her went with him seemingly to the end; long afterwards we have already heard him say: "I think often, often of her now." So we have the part of Lincoln as lover with tragic intensity. Evidently that love had been of long, persistent, ever-increasing growth, even if secreted till the golden opportunity bloomed. But its crushing might brings with it a corresponding discipline. He has gradually to get control of that volcanic emotional nature of his, which surges through him as if it would undermine his reason. Lincoln endures the awful strain and ANN RUT LEDGE. 181 comes forth a purified soul from the Discipline of Love, but he carries the mark with him all his life, a tendency to reminiscent sorrow over his loss. What did it do for him? At least compelled him to the inner mastery of Fate. The deepest sep- aration of life is experienced, immort.ality is awakened in him — the thought of futurity and the return of the beloved in another existence. Still that poem round which his deepest emo- tions so persistently clung, celebrates mortality rather than immortality, the evanescent rather than the eternal in man, who in view of his utterly fleeting appearance here on earth should not exalt himself. This is the last verse: *"Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a breath, From the blossom of health to the palenss of death, From the gilded saloon to the bier and the sliroud ; Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud?" And yet amid all these transitory outer shows of mortality, there is one thing that persists and is immortal — love. That is the secret contrast which lies in these verses for Lincoln, recalling and gratifying through their utterance the deepest and most lasting emotion of his life. Something of the same strain breathes in that strangely premonitory hymn which Lincoln asked Ann to sing for him during her illness, while she still could sing: "Vain man, thy fond pursuits forbear!" This sounds not very encouraging to her lover on the outside, but it must have touched that 182 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. deepest layer of emotion in his nature which felt in the fair vanishing shape before him the tie which is eternal. This hymn was one "for which Lincoln always expressed a great preference, and it was likewise the last thing she ever sung " (note in Hcrndon I., p. 129, last edition). But what about the other lover, McNamar? He came to New Salem with his Eastern family of rel- atives, two months after the death of Ann Rut- ledge. As far as known, he showed no signs of deep sorrow; within a year he took a wife. It has been handed down that he met at the post-office sorrowing Lincoln, and made the remark that the latter "seemed desolate and sorely distressed" — which was apparently not his own case. There is no mystery in his conduct, as some have thought; his love had waned, and there is every reason to believe that he would not have married Ann Rut- ledge if she had lived. Lincoln seems never to have cared for the young women in his early environment. His step-sister was of marriageable age, lived with him, and the mother was probably willing, yet the Love-God did not turn that way, though a young fellow of the early twenties has a natural bent toward the tender passion. Pubescent years seem to have run without the cast of a single arrow. Ann Rut- ledge appears to have been his first and probably his last love. The later Mrs. Lincoln must have known somewhat of the matter, and this may ANN RUT LEDGE. , 183 be taken as a partial justification of certain phases of her behavior. Some expression from Lincohi's own Hps, rumor of the old affair, the gossipy tongue of a neighbor, stirred a temper naturally irritable. Lincoln at New Salem often went to Ann Rutledge's resting-place and wept. He once said "My heart is buried there," and there it seems to have stayed. Certain writers on Lincoln have maintained that it was the death of Ann Rutledge which wove the dark thread of melancholy through his soul. Hardh^ ; that thread was spun by Clotho herself at his birth from his mother's own temperament. Then this hereditary trait was nursed by the nar- row, cribbed, imprisoning environment of his youth, for Lincoln was born an aspiring, limit- transcending genius, if there ever was one; but like Ariel, he was pegged "Into a cloven pine; within which rift Imprisoned, thou didst painfully remain A dozen years ; where thou didst vent thy groans As fast as mill-wheels strike." So too Lincoln in his way; still he had found his relief, not through a magician Prospero but through himself, strangely mocking his own Ariel's groans by his humor and grotesquery, which never deserted him afterwards. Still when this tragedy of Love overtook him, there had to be a new and deeper adjustment of the spirit to meet the lower- ing Fates of existence. That })rofoun(l and ever- 184 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST bubbling reservoir of emotion, one of his supreme endowments, burst up into a boiling maelstrom of sorrow, which for a time swirled around within itself and became madness, threatening to con- tinue such for life in its wild agitation. But he won the power within himself of turning the sharp corner back to hope and sanity, and thus became the Fate-compeller over the most fateful element of his own nature — his emotions, certainly the most dangerous part of the human fabric if not duly ordered and controlled. In the very hardest test Lincoln gained the mastery and kept it, not without mighty resurgences from that inner reser- voir which once overflowed for a brief period his reason. The deepest turn of his life he revealed to the New Salem friend already cited, the one who paid him a visit twenty-five years afterward and pro- pounded to him heart-searching interrogations, one of which has been already noted. Here follows another with his answer: "Abe, it is true that you ran a little wild about the matter?" ''I did really. / ran off the track. I loved the girl dearly. She was a handsome girl; would have made a good, loving wife." And still, though he "ran off the track" in his desperate collision with Fate, he got on again, and mastered the antagonist. For here he is, Presi- dent-elect of the United States, and rather the ANN RUT LEDGE. 185 sanest man of his time, perchance just through that mastery and its soul-trying discipline. This now advances to its supreme gift, imparting not merely a stoical, negative suppression of emotion, but a new positive transfigured endowment of spirit. The individual Ann Rutledge is gone, indeed, forever, but the love remains and will not depart. What is to be done with it? Eradicated it cannot be, unless by tearing out the heart itself by the roots. But it can be transformed, or rather trans- figured, and thus in a manner be preserved ever active and beneficent. From the individual it can be elevated into universality, and thereby not only save the man but give him a new birth, a spiritual palingenesis. The problem with Abra- ham Lincoln now is: Can I transfigure the love of this individual Ann Rutledge, forever vanished as individual, into an universal love for humanity, ever-present and undying? Can I rise even through emotion from the one to the all? Verily he can and does ; indeed the terrible ordeal has just this providential purpose: he must come to feel and perchance to see that the painful Disci- pline of Love is not to destroy it but to eternize it by transfiguring it into the personality, and thus making it the inner luminary which shines through character and deeds. Here we behold, if not the original germ, at least the grand flowering of that deepest and all- 186 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. pervasive trait of Lincoln, which we may exalt as his universal love. Though called to administer a national discipline, as severe as his own personal discipline ever was, he did it not in hate and re- venge, as everybody now recognizes. In his last Inaugural, toward the close of a bloody and furi- ous Civil War only a few weeks before his own evanishment, he reaches the highest and purest note of this most perfect sirain of his character. Let us read it again, for it stands alone among all State papers, and is unique in Literature: ''With malice toward none, with charity for all; with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive to finish the work we are in ; to bind up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan — to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations." Such is the note of universal Love in this noblest verse of our American Bible, uttered amid the clash of arms to the Folk-Soul which has given to it a mighty, a universal response as expressive of its highest self — a response which keeps rolling louder and more harmonious as it echoes down Time. The fact is observable that this trait of Lincoln, his universal Love, has become at pres- ent the chief theme of anecdote, reminiscence, story, novel, and other literary utterance pertain- ing to him, directly or remotely. His kindness, MARY OWENS. 187 forgiveness, tender-heartedness — his "charity for all" — with instances repeating themselves thou- sandfold, seems to be selected as the typical qual- ity of his soul, always being brought up to the light, and celebrated anew in quite every form of human expression. And indeed that theme — love of the individual transfigured and made universal — has always been a favorite with the greatest masters in Literature. We can find it in Shakespeare, who thus endows particularly a number of his female characters; we can find it in Goethe, and above all, in Dante, who transfigures his love of Beatrice after her death, so that she becomes a symbol of Divine Love itself, which draws him upward to the celestial city. The medieval Italian poet is very different from the modern American statesman ; still it may be said that Ann Rutlcdge was Lincoln's Beatrice. Both men married after their fiery Discipline of Love through death, and had children; but that fi^'st Love was the eternal one, and conducted them both into the universal life of the heart, whose inspiration in Lincoln's case we may catch at its ever-living source in his simple confession : "I think often, often of her now." XIII. Mary Owens. What! another woman in line, and that, too, so soon ! Yes, now we have to give a leap, earth- 188 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST defying, to the other side of our universal Lin- coln^a leap impossible to many and straining in every joint the few who can make it. The be- holder of Lincoln's Hfe-drama is whisked with dizzying celerity from his Tragedy of Love to its grotesque antithesis, to his Comedy of Love., Yet, just that is our lot in trying not only to see but to be Lincoln vicariously in this biographic jour- ney. Accordingly beside the foregoing tragic phase of Lincoln's Hfe, we must place the comic coun- terpart, which followed not long after. It may be said that the two occurrences so conjoined pro- duce a shocking dissonance in the reader. But the reader must learn to know Lincoln with all his jars, jolts and contradictions, not a few of which will be found among the deepest and sub- tlest, not only of his but of human nature. Already it has been said that there is a per- vasive grotesque element in Lincoln, which we have not only to acknowledge but to fathom. Physically there was something of the grotesque in him, and mentally even more. From now on he seems to have relieved the burden of his spirit in the caricature of his own ills. Very deep and strong ran the current of his emotional nature, and will tear him to shreds, unless he can meet its ravages by some counteractive power. That inner gnawing gloom can he somehow turn back upon itself and make it gnaw itself to death MARY OWENS. 189 instead of him? Destroyer it is indeed; can it not be whirled about and be forced to destroy itself? Lincoln's mastery of the tragedy of fini- tude is now slowly won: he makes it finite to itself and thus ends it. His own inner Furies of ,• Feeling would have eaten him up, unless he could have turned them upon one another. Thus they showed themselves as self-undoing, absurd, comic. Enormous strength of the spirit this indeed re- quired — here is probably his greatest strength. At Fortune he not only made mouths, but made her make mouths at herself. Even Love, getting vengeful and demonic, is forced by him to play the part of a clown instead of an all-powerful deity. This is not merely light-hearted indiffer- ence which feels little and cares less, not steeled stoicism which lets Fate strike on in pure defi- ance. Rather is Fate made to undo itself in its own blow; its own stroke is deftly changed to the counterstroke upon its own head. Fate itself be- comes fated in Lincoln's humor and is laughed out of the world for the time being. All finitude Lincoln^ turned to a grotesque and made it show its limits, even its lie; he, being finite, became grotesque along with finitude, and thus transcended it, re- vealing his universal nature. Even suffering is a destroying fiend, a negative power; why should it not somehow be served up to itself, if not directly, then indirectly by the mind? Dante's Inferno is, of all human portrayals, the 190 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. fullest of suffering and of grotesquery, strange and horrible as the combination may seem. Sin is shown as self-undoing, and so at bottom grotesque, even through the fires of Hell. And Homer, the great type of classicism, cannot help making his Zeus grotesque, especially when the divine mood is negative and minatory. And that battle of Gods, of all-powerful Gods fighting each other, is a grotesque, and certainly Homeric for that reason, in spite of the head-shaking critics. And in Shakes- peare comedy is always trailing upon the heels of tragedy; mark the fool in Lear, the grave-dig- ger in Hamlet, the drunken porter in Macbeth. So we shall find Lincoln ; after the heart-rending, tragic pathos of Ann Rutledge follows the comedy of Mary Owens. The latter indeed seems to have felt the true situation, with her woman's in- stinct; so she responded to her suitor with a smart backstroke of his own humor. Mary Owens was born in Kentucky, September 29th, 1808, and so was a little older than Lin- coln. She was well educated, of polished man- ners, of a wealthy and high-toned family. It is noteworthy that all three of Lincoln's sweethearts including his wife, were aristocratic Kentucky girls, then as now famous for their beauty, ca- prices, and accomplishments. Mary Owens visited her married sister, who lived near New Salem, first in 1833, when she met Lincoln without any pronounced result on either side. She returned MARY OWENS. 191 in 1836, when Lincoln was the great man of the village. Then began the serio-comic interlude in which she furnished the coquetry and Lin- coln the grotesquery. We may take as the overture to this merry war a passage from Lincoln's letter describing the event after it was over. Merry war we name it, for it can hardly be called serious, though both parties get their fingers burnt a little— not much — by playing with fire. But to the letter: "A mar- ried lady of my acquaintance and who was a great friend of mine, being about to pay a visit to her father and other relatives residing in Kentucky, proposed to me that on her return she would bring a sister of hers with her, on condition that I would engage to become her brother-in-law with all convenient dispatch. I of course accepted the proposal, for you know I could not have done otherwise had I really been averse to it." He adds, however, that "I was most confoundedly well pleased with the project." Here is the start in banter, Lincoln being "not averse" to the trial. A brief glance of the woman as natural match-maker does not fail to peep out in this "great friend of mine," and this same woman knew well what an emotional earth- quake Lincoln had just passed through. Moreover he had seen "the said sister some three years be- fore," with interest, apparently, but without feel- ing any bolt from the Love-God. Now think 192 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. what Lincoln had experienced in those three years! He had risen to be the first man of the village with the flattering possibility of a future career. But what is far more pertinent to the present situation, he had on life's stage enacted the most passionate tragedy of love. How could he have the heart to suppress all that in a year! A.h, that is Lincoln again. The comic side of Love he has to play as a relief from its destroying tragic intensity. It is evident that Lincoln felt fascinated by Miss Owens when seen, but when she was out of sight he reacted strongly. In her presence she might make him forget, or see in her the other; but when he was left to himself the other as image came back overpoweringly. In this mood we have two letters from him to his "Dear Mary." The first is certainly not encouraging. "I am afraid you would not be satisfied" with my pov- erty at Springfield. "My opinion is you had better not do it," namely, accept my proposal offered you personally. Certainly that is no love- letter with its rainbow of hopes; "You have not been accustomed to hardships," which you are certain to have in living with me. What other conclusion speaks out of these words but this: Therefore reject me. A second letter after a visit is even more dissuasive. The first sentence runs: "You will no doubt think it rather strange that I should write you a letter on the same day on which MARY OWENS. 193 we parted." It is strange and the reason is that "at our last meeting we had but few expressions of thoughts." In her presence he could not come to utterance, but he must now express "what my real feehngs toward you are." He tells her that she can, if she so Welshes, "leave this letter unanswered without accusing murmur from me." And he goes so far as to say that "it is my sincere wish that you should," if it will add "anything to your peace of mind." And in the last paragraph of the same letter he repeats: "If it suits you best not to answer this — farewell." In reply he gets just what he wants — ^No. The relief was instan- taneous and great, for it gave origin to a wild, whimsical effervescence of grotesquery, which is reflected in a letter to another lady about the oc- currence. This letter is known in Lincoln literature as the Browning letter (it was addressed to an intimate lady-friend, Mrs. 0. H. Browning), and has been an irremovable stumbling-block in the way of some of Lincoln's admirers. Biographer Lamon wished to withhold it if "the act could be decently reconciled to the conscience of a biographer." He was shocked by "its grotesque humor," and others have echoed his plaints. Lincoln was a good, yea a famous speller, but it seems that he set off the general tomfoolery of this letter by a "defective orthography." There is no doubt that he gives himself up to a fit of broad caricature as he looks 13 194 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. back at the whole affair. It was not the genuine article at all, and well does he know the fact. It was a false, delusive phantom of love on the part of both, and hence ridiculous, self-annulling, comic. A little comedy of love one may deem the action, at whose conclusion nobody perishes, or even gets seriously hurt, though Lincoln confesses that "I very unexpectedly found myself mortified almost beyond endurance !" Still he had sought all along "how I might procrastinate the evil day." But when that "evil day" did come, it brought an answer just the opposite of what he expected. Long afterwards Miss Owens gave a superb sum- mary of the situation: "I thought Mr. Lincoln deficient in those little links which make up the chain of woman's happiness." Such a hstless, insipid lover was just no lover at all, and so she gives him back his own when they reach the parting of the ways. Lincoln does not spare himself in the same let- ter: "I most emphatically in this instance made a fool of myself." He thinks of never marrying, because "I can never be satisfied with anyone who would be blockhead enough to have me." In his portraiture of Miss Owens, he distorts her features to caricature, making her "a fair match for Falstaff," fat, toothless, weather-beaten, aged (she was a few months older than Lincoln, and certainly was more beautiful). Of course these expressions were used in a private letter, which THE PASSING OF NEW SALEM. 195 he took as a vehicle for blowing off his native grotesquery. This was an inherent part of the total man, the reverse side of him and also of his world. Thus in the drama of life Lincoln has played the two parts of Love, the tragic and the comic, or the serious and the humorous — parts opposite, indeed, yet forming one totality of personal ex- perience, as well as of the amatory theme itself. Therewith his many-colored career at New Salem draws to a close in a shocking outburst of gro- tesquery, but deeply concordant with, and explana- tory of his whole nature. And our variegated vil- lage of New Salem, itself a grotesque, begins also to wind up its brief panorama of existence, hav- ing furnished an harmonious setting for the most unique and diversified stage in the Apprenticeship of Abraham Lincoln. XIV. The Passing of New Salem. Very closely identified were the young village and the young man, the communal and the per- sonal characters. New Salem and Lincoln. Verily they grew in strong correspondence ; they were for a period symmetrical counterparts, with lives deeply intertwined. Man unfolds in and with his community, his institution; and the community pivots upon its great individual, often rising and falling with him in the stages of his career. Lin- 196 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. coin spiritually moves out of New Salem, and what has it to do but to die, its soul having departed and its function being accomplished? That de- clining village, in co-operation with his own short- comings, had brought him failure, had in fact thrown him back for a time to his beginning as rail-splitter. When notice comes to him that he can be appointed assistant surveyor of Sangamon County, the bearer of the message finds him no longer in New Salem, but in the woods working at his old employment of making rails. Thus he has been whisked back quite to his lUinois start- ing-point. But of a sudden and very unexpect- edly the messenger of the Gods (we may again say) having taken the form of a well-known neigh- bor. Pollard Simmons by name, appears to him beside a prostrate oak, and catches his arm in the very act of uplifting a huge maul, and exclaims: Stop, Lincoln, the Gods have other work for thee. Then the messenger announces their de- cree, and Lincoln obeys, recognizing the divine call which has dropped down* upon him so sud- denly, at his lowest depression there in the woods. His activity is no longer to be confined to a petty village but is to extend over the whole county of Sangamon, with whose people he is henceforth to come into contact. His surveyorship is the tran- sition out of New Salem to a larger field ; the some- what narrow communal life is to be transcended, and Lincoln will become acquainted with a new THE PASSING OF NEW SALEM. 197 and wider range of the Folk-Soul, which it is his destiny at last to know and to represent in its en- tirety. Thus through the kind and opportune help of John Calhoun, surveyor of Sangamon County, Lincoln is brought to take an important step toward the goal of his career, breaking out of his New Salem environment, and rescued from sinking back into his earlier pinched existence on a farm. But what about New Salem itself? It slowly drifts towards its fate in extinction. As a piece of driftwood, it has no staying power, never had; in deepest accord with its drifting, insubstantial character, it must pass and cease to be. Negative we have called it, so what has it to do but to van- ish? Strangely it drifts with the stream and is transformed into another and different community. The town of Petersburg, which is soon to be laid out, is two miles down the Sangamon from New Salem, which now seems to float off from its hil- lock, navigating for a little distance the turbid current which has otherwise shown itself not veiy navigable. We may see the village giving up its very anchor of hope, which was the navigability of the Sangamon, and flinging itself down from its perch into the roaring waters of its loved river- nymph, who has proved so faithless to her early promise. Disappearing in the waves for a while, it crawls out on the bank, but metamorphosed into the town of Petersburg. It was in the year 1836 that Lincoln, in his ca- 198 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. pacity of surveyor, was called upon to plan, to lay out in lots and streets, in fine, to bring into vis- ible existence the successor of his own New Salem. He had already resolved to leave the latter, hav- ing nearly finished his law-course, and intending to make Springfield his home. One can have lit- tle doubt that he felt the coming evanishment of the village. There was always in it sometliing of the uncertain, transitory, or drifting, as we have so often termed it. Our interest in it springs from the fact that Lincoln during these years had the same general trait. And now his call is to put an end to his own and the village's time of drifting. After some weeks of labor the new town of Peters- burg is born through the surveyor's skill, is baptized with a name, and starts off in the world, still to- day regarding Lincoln affectionately as its god- father. There was enough in the situation to give rise to sombre reflections in the mind of Lincoln prone to melancholy. Of course none of these reflections have come down, very few of them were probably ever spoken, still he must have been aware, even if dimly, that he was leaving behind himself one stage of his Apprenticeship, and entering upon another. New Salem he felt to be a part of him- self — a part which is now to disappear forever. Could he help thinking of Ann Rutledge whom the same lot of earthly evanishment had befallen, foreshadowing in a kind of human symbol the fate THE PASSING OF NEW SALEM. 199 of the village, and perchance more remotely of liimself? New Salem was gradually deserted, be- coming a communiial graveyard from wliich even the houses have now vanished. Petersburg, the new town, continues, and will continue to exist; still it has not, nor is it likely to have the fame of that dead village. New Salem, which bloomed so suddenly but lived hardly a de- cade. Its brief life, however, is immortally inter- twined with Lincoln; it seemed to arise and to, exist in order to give him a certain necessary part of his training for his work. Then its ground for living departed, and it drifted down stream out of sight, having furnished in its own career a small sympathetic world for unfolding an important stage of Lincoln's career. To our mind there is a poetic strand in the rise, bloom and decHne of New Salem; in fact, the whole village passes before us as a kind of poem in action, of which Lincoln is the hero, who fills all its leading parts with a certain heroic suprem- acy. Small, verily, is the field, so small that the deeds often take a mock-heroic tinge ; still they are real and call forth the latent gifts of their youthful doer. We have often named it an Ho- meric village, as it has the poetic power of sug- gesting, and even re-enacting phases of old Homer's world. Little epical turns mark often its doings, which move around a central figure, as in ancient Greek legend. Lincoln as fabulist, as athlete, as 200 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART FIRST. captain in war, as lawgiver, we have seen center- ing his people about liim, and making himself the representative and also the voice of the Folk-Soul in that little community, but large enough for Ms present talent. At the same time he is taking quite a course in self-education through the Printed Page, truly his University in the right sense, for it universalizes him, carrying him far beyond the narrow bounds of his village. Then comes the peculiar finale^ still poetic in an actual tragedy and comedy, which give, not the one homogeneous side, but the two wholly heterogeneous, indeed, oppo- site sides of Lincoln and of Pluman Nature, which are so difficult to synthesize into one character. Yet, how else can the man be complete — a whole and not merely a half? But now Lincoln, having played all his village parts, is done with New Salem, and New Salem is done with itself. Hardly again will it be his lot to breathe such a sunny idyllic atmosphere, and to build out of life's stray shreds such a completely rounded poem, which, indeed, he never sang, not having the gift of music, but nevertheless acted to the end. Two exits, then, we have at this point: exit Lincoln from New Salem, and exit New Salem itself. What next? Behold: the two pieces of floating driftwood come to anchorage. OHAPTER THIRD. (Betttna HncboreD. Lincoln's transition from New Salem was not the work of a day. We can trace him slowly and doubtless painfully severing the tie for more than a year. In the fall of 1836 he was licensed to practice law, which he had been directly studying for some two years, and indirectly much longer. His enrolment as a member of the bar at Springfield took place in March, 1837, after his return from Vandalia, where he had played the distinguished part of capital-mover. This honor he shared with the rest of the ''Long Nine," upon whom ban- quets and toasts were showered for their deed, heroic in the eyes of Springfield. Still the entrance of Lincoln into Springfield as a permanent resielent and famous legislator was not in the form of a triumph. His first appear- ance has been recorded by Joshua F. Speed, to whose store his good genius led him straightway. The account of Speed runs: "He had ridden into town on a borrowed horse with no earthly prop- erty save a pair of saddle-bags containing a few clothes." Lincoln wished to buy some bedding, which cost seventeen dollars. But he could not pay it, and asked for credit till Christmas, saying that if his experiment as a lawyer was a success, (201) 202 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. he could pay then. But he added: "If I fail in this I do not know that I can ever pay you." With these words the cloud descended, which, one thinks, may have hovered over him all the way from New Salem. ''I never saw a sadder face," says Speed, who grew sympathetic, and made on the spot the extraordinary offer to the ungainly stranger: ''I have a double bed up stairs which you are perfectly welcome to share with me." Lincoln grasped his saddle-bags, climbed to the room, and set them down on the floor. Descend- ing soon with radiant countenance he exclaimed to his benefactor: "Well, Speed, I'm moved." Surely the Gods have not deserted Lincoln, nor Speed. It is a memorable act of kindness whose consequences weave themselves into the lives of both men, yea, into coming history. That home- less stranger is really on his way to the Presidency when he enters Speed's store at Springfield and is given shelter. Never will he forget that un- paralleled act of hospitality, which has renclered the doer, and even doer's family, immortal. Lincoln is now located, having made one of the important transitions of his life, which in its out- ward environment may be stated as the transition from New Salem to Springfield. His survey orship was a kind of bridge for him between these two places. As already indicated, New Salem was a sinking town, it had a rather fast life, too fast to endure. A hope-raiser and a hope-dasher it was; CHAPTER THIRD — GETTING ANCHORED. 203 Lincoln had run through its whole gamut of up and down, and now he has to jump or sink with it, for it refuses to drift longer, but is surely going to the bottom. The great fact of Lincoln's transi- tion to Springfield is that he gets anchored, first anchoring it as the permanent Capital of the State. This he will not leave till he starts many years later for the Capital of the Nation, to which he will likewise give a new and far firmer anchorage. Springfield was at this time a thriving town of some fifteen hundred people, who, for the most part, had come from the South, mainly from Ken- tucky. Thus it was an outgrowth of that great Southern migration into the North-West, which has been already set forth as a deep, though often unconscious reaction from slavery. Lincoln be- longed to that same migration, and found himself in congenial company. But Springfield had been a center of attraction for the more wealthy and aris- tocratic class of Southerners, while he in origin at least reckoned himself among the poor whites. Especially the Kentucky patriciate was well rep- resented and socially dominated the town. Still the ability and worth of Lincoln, chief capital- mover, were at once recognized. Lincoln has, accordingly, gotten out of a float- ing into an anchored community, and thus has something to tie to, namely, the primal commu- nal institution. This we may well deem the first requisite of a settled life. Then he has concen- 204 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. trated himself upon a single vocation, the law, toward which he has long been drifting, through all sorts of sinuosities ; at last he is centered pro- fessionally. How many different callings did he not pursue at New Salem, trying to anchor his economic existence! He soon drops surveying even, being able to make a living at law; nor do his legislative duties seem to weigh him down when he gets to the Capital, though he is elected twice afterwards. Now he becomes definitely political, a Henry Clay Whig, having moulted completely his Jackson Democracy, of which he still bore traces in New Salem. But in the Presidential cam- paign of 1836, he had wholly shed his Democratic snake-skin and left it behind. Moreover, he be- came a very deft organizer of State politics, a skill which he will use to good purpose hereafter. A chief element in the culture of Lincoln during this part of his Springfield period was society. Really he entered a new social class, the aforesaid Kentucky patriciate, composed of the lawyers, officials, professionals generally, to whom must be added the leading business men, notably his friend Speed. The town was also full of Kentucky ladies, married and unmarried, well bred and socially agreeable, and beautiful of course. The gawky farmer-boy and the rude New Salem athlete and story-teller is going to get some polish, or is at least to see refined manners. Parties, balls, social visits now take up a portion CHAPTER THIRD — GETTING ANCHORED. 205 of Lincoln's time, and give him their training, while he still can absorb it; there is no doubt that society was attractive to him, even if he never became a stunning beau of the exquisite type. This experience was also a part of his Ap- prenticeship: moreover he came to understand Kentucky well in and through Springfield, which knowledge will perform its great service in his skillful treatment of that State during the Civil War. As he left Kentucky when a mere child, he could not know much about it; he became ac- quainted with it in Springfield, especially with the character of its ruling class. One asks what literature did Lincoln study during these years? He probably did not neglect the Printed Page to which he had shown hitherto such devotion; but he paid more attention to human intercourse and less to books. As he is at the center, he gets to know the political leaders of the State through whom the Folk-Soul is reached, as well as the strings of partisan net- work always radiating out from the Capital. Or- atory he had already cultivated, but political organization he now studied and became an ex- pert. Lincoln got to know the politician, where strong and where weak; he grew naturally to be one himself, or rather the leader of them in his State, till he mounted above them, yet through them, to the Nation. He was well aware that the politician has his place in 206 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. our system of political parties, being the chief means of reaching and organizing the scattered masses of the People. So Lincoln had his ap- prenticeship to wire-pulling, and to touching the salient motives of men who were to be his instru- ments. Sitting at the center of the State cobweb, he learned how to move its fine filaments extend- ing to the circumference. The politician, though in disfavor, has to be, but he ought to be con- trolled, and not permitted to become an end unto himself. We shall often see Lincoln em- ploying him but subordinating him to the su- preme end of the Nation, yea of the World's History. This the master could not have done without knowing his servant to the bottom, with- out his having been such a servant once himself in the time of his Apprenticeship. The present period of Lincoln's life lasts, as we conceive it, till his marriage in 1842, which is his final anchoring in the Family, now his own, and not his father's. It thus runs some six years, or nearly so, quite as long as his stay at New Salem. But the latter is far better known, and can be fol- lowed in considerably greater detail. The reason seems to be that Lincoln, when he went to Spring- field, no longer lived such an open communal life; his law practice did not bring him so much in con- tact with all the people ; his political activity was more secretive, being devoted rather to manage- ment than to personal electioneering. But chiefly CHAPTER THIRD — GETTING ANCHORED. 207 his social ambition changed; without giving up wholly his popular bent, he became strongly at- tached to Springfield's select patriciate, chiefly Kentuckian, which furnished so many of his warmest friends and supporters. This attach- ment he will carry with him into the Presi- dency, Lincoln's social aspiration would seem to shine through this further fact : the heroines of his three chief love-affairs belonged to the class above that in which placed himself, indeed all three of them were blue-blooded Kentucky girls, as already noted. How different these six years from the preced- ing six! The central figure drops into the back- ground, and Lincoln's manifold heroship, so prom- inent in the village, seems quite snuffed out in the Capital. But with it vanished also that little poetical world of which he was the chief incarna- tion, and of whose pivotal deeds he stood forth as the leader. Not the small community now but the whole State is present in its officials, whose great- ness naturally overtopped the hero of diminutive New Salem. But Lincoln must move into the larger field and strive for its possession also, though he has to pass through a time of eclipse during this new stage of his Apprenticeship. The routine of a humdrum profession he has to learn and follow instead of the varied kaleidoscopic turns and changes of "& piece of floating driftwood." From poetry he must come down, down to prose, which 208 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. has also its right of existence, particularly in Illi- nois, with its dead level of prairie. To the reader short must be these six years, though they were probably long to Lincoln. Still he remains story-teller, wherever he is; even a champion he becomes, not in bloody war against the barbarians, but in a bloodless duel, transcendently serio-comic. Then he gets mar- ried. Of these unhcroic years we shall patch together a few of the more significant details which have risen to the surface in detached bits. I. Legislative. The second term of Lincoln in the Illinois Leg- islature was the most active and important of his four terms. He met with leading men from every part of the State and formed their acquaintance; also, he took their measurement, which he care- fully stored up in his mind for future use. In the previous session (1834-6) he was more the quiet student, watching Public Opinion as it crystallized itself into law through the legislative departmant of the government — the peculiar process of the American Folk-Soul, which must first get a con- viction and then make it legal. But what moves the Folk-Soul to such conviction antedating the work of legislation? That is a very significant question which will occupy Lincoln later, especially LEGISLATIVE. 209 in his debate with Douglas. For instance in re- gard to slavery, the People came to have a certain strong conviction, of which Lincoln rose to be first the expounder and then the realizer, even through war. But whence originates that conviction, which enters the popular mass and kneads the same as its protoplasmic material ere making itself the principle of government? To catch a glimpse of its supernal source we have to ascend the heights of Universal History, of which the given People or Nation is one stage or epoch, 'participat- ing just through such conviction in the world- historical movement of the Ages. Now Lincoln, we may repeat, is preparing in this Apprenticeship of his to be the mediator between these two Powers which we have already designated as the Folk-Soul and the World-Spirit. At present, however, we are to see Lincoln in one of his earlier stages of development: from the limited communal life of New Salem he is passing into a knowledge of his State through his legisla- tive experience. In 1837 Illinois felt a prodigious desire for expansion, which expressed itself in the demand for internal improvements at the expense of the public treasury. There was to be a network of canals intersecting and connecting all parts of the State; with surprise we hear of a scheme for conjoining the Illinois river with Lake Michigan by a canal — a work now in process of fulfilment. A system of railroads was also planned — especially 14 210 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. one was to bisect the State from East to West, running from Danville to Quincy. Nor was the improvement of the rivers forgotten, though the Sangamon fared badly. In fact, Lincoln himself, quitting New Salem, seems also to have quite abandoned his yellow-tressed water-nymph, who had exerted in former years such a fascinating power over his love and his imagination. Typical of his changed spirit is the fact that the Sangamon no longer flows through his life. Still we might say that the former dream of the little community has expanded to be the dream of the whole State of Illinois, which becomes as full of chimerical projects as was ever New Salem. Lincoln as its representative seems to have carried its fever .with him to the Capital at Vandalia, where it spread to the entire legislative body, which, under the influence of the epidemic, made enactments which can only be called delirious. At last the crisis of the malady came, and it was a crisis — that of 1837, well-known for its virulence in our financial history. The whole people shared the delusion, and their representatives simply en- acted the popular craze into law. Very expensive was the debauch ; from it the Statp contracted a debt which took a good while to pay. Herein the affair resembled the New Salem debt of Lincoln, who also had had his speculative fever some years before, and who often jocosely compared his stand- ing obligation to the national debt. Curious is it LEGISLATIVE. 211 to note that all Illinois passed through the stage of fancy-fed New Salem with its navigable Sangamon and paid the penalty, as did also Lincoln^ whose career we are following in its corresponding envi- ronment. But the village perished of the malady while the State recovered, and Lincoln escaped by flight, carrying with him his burden of indebted- ness for many years. The chief personal feat, however, of Lincoln at this Legislature, was his share in getting the Capi- tal moved from Vandalia to Springfield. Nine members were chosen from Sangamon County, all of them strong men in mind and tall in stature; hence they became known as the ''long nine." It is acknowledged that Lincoln was their leader, and had afterwards the name of being the capital- mover from friends and enemies. He made Springfield the Capital of the State, and then went there to live permanently, taking his place at the center. The way in which he performed this ex- ploit has been frequently the subject of animad- version. He is supposed to have done it chiefly by trading votes : You vote for my scheme and I'll vote for yours; you want the new canal or the new railroad to come to your place; I'll help you with my vote and with my tongue, if need be, if you'll help me with yours. As there was a vast material just then for making such bargains through the many schemes for Public Improve- ments, Lincoln evidently used it for his end. That 212 ABRAHAM LIXCOLN— PART FIRST. is the character of the politician everywhere and everywhen, and the statesman cannot escape it, looking out always for his quid pro quo. Nor must we fail to observe a little parenthetic clause in his appeal to his electors, written from New Salem under the date of June 13th, 1836: "I go for admitting all whites to the right of suffrage who pay taxes or bear arms (by no means excluding females)." Here bursts out a stunning idea with a kind of detonation — one of his last New Salem explosions. Never afterwards did he pick up again that idea, which probably burnt his fingers a little in the handling. At any rate in Springfield he grew dumb, as far as the record goes, upon Woman's Suffrage. Why? Hard to tell; but with this single shot of his life at such game, we may conceive him turning away to the great coming question of the age, that of Slav- ery, upon which he levels in this Legislature his first thunderous broadside. 11. Anti-Slavery Protest. A pivotal act in his career Lincoln deemed his earliest anti-slavery document, which was entered upon the Illinois House Journal of March 3rd, 1837, in the form of a Protest against certain Res- olutions passed by the Legislature. In his auto- biographic sketch of 18G0 he gives the document anti-slavery protest. 213 in full, with the statement that it "defined his po- sition on the slavery question; and so far as it goes, it was then the same that it is now." The following is the text of the protest, an undoubted composition of Lincoln, now 27 years old: "Resolutions on the subject of domestic slav- ery having passed both branches of the General Assembly at its present session, the under- signed hereby protest against the passage of the same. "They believe that the institution of slavery is founded both on injustice and bad policy, but that the promulgation of Abolition doctrines tends rather to increase than abate its evils. "They believe that the Congress of the United States has no power under the Constitution to in- terfere with the institution of slavery in the differ- ent States. "They believe that the Congress of the United States has the power under the Constitution to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, but that the power ought not to be exercised unless at the request of the people of the District. 'The difference between these opinions and those contained in the above resolutions is their reason for entering this Protest. Dan Stone, A. Lincoln, Representatives from the County of Sangamon." 214 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART FIRST. Such is the Protest, evidently composed by Lincohi and throwing a search-Hght forward through his whole future career to the end. The document is drawn with such care and the limits are observed with such nicety that he never had to ex]5lain it away or apologize for it afterwards. It bears testimony that he already saw the lines along which the great coming battle was to be fought victoriously. Possibly he already dreamed, for Lincoln was ambitious, that he might be the leader. We see laid down, accordingly, in the foregoing statement "so far as it goes," the lines of Lincoln's future attitude toward slavery, which Congress cannot interfere with where it already exists, but which Congress can abolish in the District of Co- lumbia with the consent of its people. When he gets to Washington as representative, Lincoln will try his hand at this last business without success. The omission is striking : not a word about keeping slavery out of the Territories, the burning question of a later time. The fact is that this question v/as supposed to be settled so effectively ])y the Mis- souri Compromise that it was not worth the mc:i- tion. But when that Compromise is repealed in 1854, the territorial problem breaks out with new violence, and Lincoln takes from it his final trend which lands him in the Presidency. Still the strong declaration is to be noted that "the institution of slavery is founded both on in- ANTI'SLAVERY PROTEST. 215 justice and bad policy", is both a moral and an eco- nomic evil. In spite of his moral reprobation of it, Lincoln recognized its legal and constitutional right, and hence was not an abolitionist, and even deprecated abolitionism pure and simple. In this document we see that he already maintains that the opposition to slavery must be institutional, preserving Law and Constitution. At the same time we feel in it already the truth of one of his Presidential utterances: ''I am naturally anti- slavery." In a little speech to an Indiana regi- ment he declares: "I have always thought that all men should be free. . . . Whenever I hear anyone arguing for slavery, I feel a strong impulse to see it tried on him personally." Give him back his own, let him taste the consequences of his principle — that is universal justice. The moral spirit in Lincoln was very strong; just as strong was his institutional spirit. Yet slavery has intro- duced the bitterest conflict between the two — be- tween the moral and the institutional; which of the two must go to the wall? The exclusively moral man cri(\s: Down with your institutions since they support slavery; the exclusively institu- tional man cries: Down with your fanatical mo- rality which assails vested rights in Law and Con- stitution. Lincoln already sees and feels the acrid dualism which is to grow more and more disunit- ing and separative till it rends the American Folk-Soul in twain — which separation it is to be 216 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. the peculiar work of Lincoln to overcome. Sig- nificant is it, therefore, to trace the presence of these two colliding elements in this earliest anti- slavery document of the Great Emancipator, who has at last to wipe out the source of the ever- harassing dualism and thus bring an inner peace to the hitherto self-conflicting Folk-Soul. One other name, that of Dan Stone, stands with Lincoln on the document, and is thereby eternized. No other members of that Legislature were will- ing to attach their signatures. Let it be noted that Lincoln has now begun to hear the AYorld- Spirit, and even to voice it in a way; Dan Stone also heard it possibly, affixed his sign-manual to this early utterance of it, and then sank clown for- ever into the sea of oblivion, in thought-stirring contrast to Lincoln. Why was the one individual chosen, and the other quite dismissed? Let that be the secret of the Powers who have the matter in hand; the scribe, looking backward, can only set down the fact in a reflective mood. But who of all those legislative members whose names are not signed to Lincoln's protest is the coming man on the other side of the burning ques- tion? In the ranks of the opposition yonder stands a stout, low-statured, rotund, rubicund youth, only 23 years old, who has been elected from Morgan County to this Legislature of 1836; he is the destined antagonist of Lincoln for a quar- ter of a century, who wages with him a contest LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (2). 217 which we may conceive as starting here and last- ing till Lincoln is elected over him to be President of the United States. That is young Stephen A. Douglas, already noticed, but now to be looked at again. III. Lincoln and Douglas (2). Douglas, as member of the Legislature of 1836-8, had participated in the delirium of Public Im- provements, which left such a load of debt upon Illinois and intensified the financial crisis of 1837. Lincoln also had assisted in blowing that colossal bubble, having become an adept in a small way at New Salem. Here is a point in which both were at one, and likewise were in agreement with the People. A statement of Lincoln has come down that his great ambition was to be called the De- Witt Clinton of Illinois. But when the day of reckoning came with its sledge-hammer hand, Lin- coln did not propose repudiation either in his own case or in that of the State. He began probably now to receive his lasting title of honor, being famed as Honest Abe from the mouth of the Peo- ple. By way of contrast popular rumor has pre- served a saying of Douglas in a stump-speech per- taining to the debt: "Illinois ought to be honest if she never paid a cent." In this double-working oracle we may catch a gleam of a trait of Douglas as politician; he would dodge an issue, and even 218 A BRA HA M LINCOLN — PART FIRST. ride two horses if necessary. Still we hold that Douglas was an institutional man in the deepest of him, even if he would play cuttle-fish when his enemies pursued him hotly (so Lincoln compared him), and would ink the waters about himself with his words so that nobody could tell quite where he stood. But now out of j^he thousands in Ihinois, out of the millions in the United States, have been sifted two men who are standing face to face in the same deliberative body at the little dot called Vandalia, and begin their antagonistic, yea, their antipathetic careers. From this germinal point they will un- fold until they stand face to face before the thou- sands in Illinois, and then before the millions in the United States. These arc the pair of Olympian wrestlers in whom the grand struggle of the time is to become incorporate, and of whom one must finally fling the other to the earth, showing himself the single towering victor in the mighty contest of the age. Many share with him the fame and honor, but he is the one altogether superemincnt. The point at which the two careers may be best seen starting out on their divergent lines through the future, is the passage of the before-men- tioned Resolutions, against which Lincoln made his Protest. Douglas supported them, and may indeed have had a hand in ]3reparing them, for they strike his ever-recurring political key-note: Stop agitating this slavery cjuestion. They cannot LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (S). 219 be called pro-slavery nor anti-slavery; but they do indicate a moral indifference to the great problem of the time. Thus they seem quite hke Douglas, whose famous later statement was in regard to Kansas: Doji't care—"l don't care whether it (slavery) is voted up or down." In support of these Resolutions we may see Douglas taking his first step in his doctrine of indifference, a small step indeed, yet a step. The Protest of Lincoln differs from the Resolu- tions very little except in one striking particular, which asserts the belief "that the institution of slavery is founded both on injustice and bad pohcy." Thus the moral element is voiced in Lincoln's Protest, which was suppressed in the Resolutions, though these presented the institu- tional element, which, however, was not denied but re-asserted in the document of Lincoln. Sla- very is both a wrong and a curse — that must be proclaimed even while granting its constitutional rights. The logic here implies that the Constitu- tion contains a wrong. which ought to be elimi- nated with time; that elimination is indeed Lin- coln's supreme coming task, now barely glimpsed, but unfolding more and more into light with the passing years. Douglas, adhering formally to transmitted insti- tutions, will dam out the rising moral conviction, which Lincoln will not only preserve but make institutional. Herein we behold their first polit- 220 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. ical differentiation, behold their divergent careers raying out from the common center at Van- dalia in 1837, till they embrace the State and the Nation. At present we can see that this rising moral conviction was the first faint irradiation of the approaching sun-up of the Age, the barely felt impress of the World-Spirit upon the Folk-Soul, which Lincoln already feels and starts to uttering. But Douglas has no such incipient stirring of the conscience from supernal sources, as far as can now be observed ; still, let it not be forgotten, he was an institutional man, and therein kept himself attuned to his people for a long time, and dis- tanced Lincoln. At last, however, he smote their moral conviction in the face and lost largely his popular hold. But we must recollect that in the last act of his life he showed his basic institutional character when Union and Constitution were as- sailed, and came to the aid of his life-long antag- onist in their support. So we are to grasp the original point in which Lincoln and Douglas are at one, and to which they will come back after a varied and circuitous de- flection of a fourth of a century. Antitypes they are indeed in their moral natures; but insti- tutionally they rest upon the same basis of Union and Constitution. In fact this is also the differ- ence between the before-mentioned Resolutions and Lincoln's Protest, which have also their same- ness. LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (2). 221 We have already noted that Lincoln moved from New Salem to Springfield after the close of the session of the Legislature in the spring of 1837. But who is this other rosy young gentleman coming to live at the new Capital about the same time? It is Stephen A. Douglas, the hitherto un- conscious competitor of Lincoln ; but now their ri- valry is to become conscious, being confined for a goodly time to a small locality. Each will get to know the other as his other, as his antitype, yet bound up with him in a sort of inseparable oppo- sition. The two greatest luminaries of Illinois now rise together and start to whirling about each other in a common orbit and toward the same goal, yet always antithetic and mutually repel- lent. Their very entrance into Springfield shows the typical contrast. Jolly, round, rubicund Douglas brings a public office along in his hand, always lucky; while lean, sallow, hollow-cheeked Lincoln brings a pair of saddle-bags equally lean and wrinkled with himself, riding on a bor- rowed horse, "with the saddest face I ever saw," hardly knowing where to lay his head till kind- hearted Speed shares with him his own bed. During four years, till Douglas leaves Springfield in IS-ll, the two antagonists meet at every charac- teristic point and strike fire. In the same profes- sion they tilt ; both are politicians but of opposite parties ; both are 3^oung fellows in society ; finally both seek the favor of the same woman. It must 222 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. be deemed one of the chief experiences of Lincoln in this Springfield epoch that he comes to know his other human half as man, or his anti-self , invis- ible active or counteractive incarnation. In about every important relation of life he runs upon and clashes with his counterpart, his antithetic double, not as ghost by any means, but in living, victo- rious energy. Still these are the two coming Great Men of the State and Nation, and will approve themselves such. They are both of the North- West and rep- resent its dualism, its growing struggle between the moral and institutional elements, each of which has been roused into activity through the question of slavery. The statesmen of the Atlantic coast may be more learned, polished, yea grammatical; but it is the North-West which takes the chief part in restoring the Union and saving the Nation, furnishing the leaders, both civil and military. Is there any reason for this fact in the logic of his- tory? We believe that there is — but more on this theme hereafter. Returning to the play of counterparts at Spring- field, some of their main points of emulation and of collision may be specially noticed. They came from Vandalia leaders of their respective parties. Whig and Democratic ; but this leadership they must have shared with other older men in the service. Douglas entered Springfield with a fresh political appointment — that of Register of Lands; LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (2) 223 yet in a few months he was nominated as candidate for Congress by his party. The Whigs selected as their nominee John T. Stuart, Lincohi's law- partner. (a) Thus arose their first political tournament before the people, Lincoln ardently supporting his friend and partner against Douglas. Stuart was elected, but by so narrow a margin that a contest was threatened. Douglas, however, gave it up. An extract froin a letter of Lincoln to Stuart, while the latter was at Washington in 1839, gives a glimpse of Lincoln's view of Douglas: "A report is in circulation that he (Douglas) has abandoned the idea of going to Washington, though the .re- port does not come in a very authentic form. . . . You know that if we had heard Douglas say that he had abandoned the contest, it would not be very authentic." To the last Lincoln was in- clined to discount the strict veracity of his rival in political utterances. (b) Next we may place their oratorical emula- tion^ which culminated in a double set of partisan speeches before a Springfield audience, four to a side. Of course Lincoln and Douglas were two of the contestants. We have still Lincoln's some- what lengthy speech on the occasion. Of its de- tails we need not say much, except to note the fact that he, now conscious of his real foe, directs his main battery against Douglas. Discussions between them and others on street-corners and in 224 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. stores were common before an interested crowd of spectators. Sometimes words were follow^ed by blows, as the following citation (Works I., p. 40) from one of Lincoln's letters indicates: "Yester- day Douglas, having chosen to consider himself insulted by something in the Journal, undertook to cane Francis (the editor) in the street. Francis caught him by the hair and jammed him back against a market-cart, where the matter ended by Francis being pulled away from him. The whole affair was so ludicrous that Francis and everybody else (Douglas excepted) have been laughing about it ever since." So reports the rival; but take care, Lincoln, your turn will come next in far more ridiculous affair, in a serio-comic sham-cluel. (r) We catch a few indications that there was also considerable social rivalry between the two contestants. It has been noticed that quite a sprinkling of the Kentucky patriciate had settled in Springfield, and that Lincoln devoted himself a good deal to their society. Douglas, though a Yankee, was not behindhand in the favor of the ladies ; indeed, when the two were dressed up and at "the cotillion party," the contrast m ist have been peculiarly striking. It is said that Lincoln preferred the society of men, and would slip off from the dance to a group of listeners, to whom he would begin telling stories. This was indeed his field, in which he was conscious of his superi- ority. Douglas certainly looked better than his LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (£). 225 rival in the parlor and ball-room, for this reason, if for none other, that garments could not be made to fit Lincoln, with his spindle shanks and long lopping arms, ending in enormous feet and hands. So Douglas was a far more perfect clothes-horse than Lincoln, and won the game in stylish appear- ance — an important point with the ladies. (d) The summit of this personal rivalry in Springfield was reached when they both became suitors for the love of the same woman. Miss Mary Tocld had already, it seems, become Lin- coln's betrothed when Douglas appeared on the scene, determined to cut his rival out. The couple "promenaded the streets, arm-in-arm, frequently passing Lincoln," who proposed to throw up the affair, but did not then succeed. The result was that the young lady took sick with a double love, her case being similar to that of Ann Rutledgc. It so happened that her brother-in-law was her physi- cian, who, having gotten out of her the secret cause of her illnes, went to Douglas and begged him to desist, "which he did with great reluc- tance" (Herndon). It may be here noted that Douglas and Miss Todd, later Mrs. Lincoln, had striking points of sim- ilarity, physically and mentally. Both were stout- statured, rotund in shape and general contour, and ruddy. Both were brilliant of mind, showy, and seemingly of like temperaments. Both formed a striking contrast to Lincoln in spirit and ex- 15 226 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST, ternally. Why did they not unite in wedlock? Rumor has it that Mrs. Lincoln once told a friend that "she loved Douglas, and but for her promise to marry Lincoln, would have accepted him." Be that' as it may, she takes, of her two rivals, not her likeness but rather her opposite — the Love-God being notoriously a contrary little imp anyhow. It seems to have been the strange fate of Lincoln that he wooed and wedded a kind of female Douglas, his feminine antitype. Heavens ! what will become of him, and of her, too! But in 1841 Douglas quits Springfield, no doubt to the great relief of Lincoln, who could not help seeing that in worldly success and promotion his rival outstripped him. Douglas was advanced to a new and higher position, that of Supreme Judge of the State for the district of Quincy, to which he moved. He had been the chief cause of abolishing the old Judiciary by legislative enactment — against which high-handed act Lincoln with his partisan friends made another protest in the Legis- lature — and then the abolisher received one of the vacancies which he had made, one of the new Judgeships. From this office Douglas obtained his title of Judge, which Lincoln usually gave, him instead of that of Senator in their later debates, possibly with a spice of irony in such a designa- tion. In this Springfield rivalry lasting four years, the two grand protagonists of the coming era find LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (2). 227 each other out ns to ability and character. They become conscious of their rivahy, which at last reaches down to the deepest fact of the age, and drives them to take sides as leaders of the two oppos- ing principles which are slowly engaging in a death-grapple throughout the Nation. This mu- tual self- awareness, won at Springfield, was an im- portant node in the careers of both; each has selected the other as the foremost champion in op- position to himself in the race for the ultimate prize, which dimly hovers in the distance before both. Indeed what bright American boy has not been told that he might be President? Lincoln and Douglas were both exceedingly ambitious, and their ambition was political, which could end only in the one supreme goal. Each gets clarified, through a quadrennial competition on one small spot, about himself and about his rival; each comes to know the other as antitypal in spirit and antagonistic in aim. This long personal contact, with its reciprocal rivalry, must be emphasized as very significant for both, since it never takes place again; it is a foreshadowing and indeed a prepa- ration through intimate personal knowledge for the distant contest when is to be settled which of the two is to have his principle and indeed his character regnant in the Nation as an ever-living exemplar and ideal. The struggle between Lincoln and Douglas was long, serious, and strenuous, pertaining to the 228 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. weightiest matters in the life of the individual and of the Nation. But now rises again a kind of carica- ture of it along Lincoln's pathway; another gro- tesque begins its sportive counterplay in which he takes a hand, almost in spite of himself, for how can he help it? Upon the Springfield stage there enters a comic character, or easily capable of being made such; with him Lincoln gets en- tangled in a comic conflict, and is made to enact his part in a new comedy, not now of Love but of Honor. IV. Lincoln in a Due!. Of course it was not a real duel winding up in bloodshed, but a sort of acted travesty on the genuine thing ; very threatening at first, it blew off in bluster. Lincoln has been blamed for his share, and he felt much mortified when it was over. Still, nature had to assert itself, and Lincoln was double-natured, being endowed equally with a sigh and a laugh as counterbreaths of the one soul. Very serious and deep-lying was his emulation of Stephen A. Douglas, whose strong, sober talent he had to meet with a corresponding one of his own; but a burlesque was his encounter with James Shields, who was himself a burlesque and easily made Lincoln bubble over with l^urlesquery by a kind of reactionary sympathy. So another comic LINCOLN IN A DUEL. 229 interlude weaves itself into the many-colored texture of Lincoln's Apprenticeship. As the result of a recent Democratic victory, a new auditor of the State appeared at Springfield and took possession of his office. This was James Shields, born in Tyrone County, Ireland, and gifted with all the brilliancy, fight and folly of his race. His character and talent were transcendently Celtic, which the Saxon finds so hard to under- stand and to deal with, not only over the sea but also here in America. Shields had the native sud- den coruscation of his people, if not in word, at least in deed; but he had little staying power. His in- itiative was his best, flashing suddenly with daz- zling splendor, and then going out in darkness. He was chosen Senator of the United States at three different times, not once to succeed himself in the same State, but from three different States — Illinois, Minnesota, and Missouri, Never has the thing been done before or since ; such a feat could only be performed by the typical Irishman at his best — ^truly a wonder-working magician able to conjure up about himself Senatorial strokes of lightning, three of them, from wholly separate places. That ability no Anglo-Saxon ever possessed. Shields showed the same talent in his military career. In the Mexican War he was appointed outright a Brigadier-General, to the great surprise of all who knew him; and then to their still greater surprise he came back a military hero of 230 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. the first water, having received a wound, with many another poor fameless fellow, in a sudden dash at Cerro Gordo. In the Civil War the man whose blood his Honor now clamors for, repeats the act of making him Brigadier-General, though Lincoln probably cracked many a joke about that former unfathomable appointment. And Shields is said to have won at the battle of Winchester the only victory ever gained over Stonewall Jack- son, though his laurels here have been contested. So Shields, as a high State official, enters the circle of Springfield's best society. He was an ardent partisan, ardent in everything. It is said that he undertook to play a very effusive social part to the staid Kentucky patriciate, who began to ridicule him. To this was added the unfortu- nate habit of not only shaking but of squeezing the tender hands of the young ladies to w^hom he might be introduced. Such at least is the infer- ence to be drawn from the repeated allusions in the letters which afterwards came out in print. Then Shields could not suppress in polite society a certain amount of self-glorification, due of course to his transcendent abilities and to his famous exploits. Into this harmless ridicule an unpopular meas- ure, in which Shields participated, put a sharp sting. He with other State officers refused by a published order to receive for taxes the bills of the State Banks, wdiich had become much depre- LINCOLN IN A DUEL. 231 ciated in the crisis of 1837. Large quantities of this paper were held by Democratic farmers of the State, who had elected these very officials and who began to murmur discontent on all sides. The "Whigs, largely in the minority in the State as a whole, saw their opportunity and egged on the quarrel, hoping thereby to lay up a good stock of political capital for their own future use. Through one cunning device or other they endeav- ored to widen the breach, now gaping ominously, between the Democratic voter and his officers. Lincoln saw the humor of the situation, always tempting to that one side of his nature before mentioned, and, as a good Whig, resolved to add his mite to help forward the cause. In this mood he wrote a rollicking burlesque of a letter ad- dressed to "Dear Mr. Printer" from the Lost Townships, dated August 27th, 1842, and ascribed to "Aunt Becca," a country widow who wants to "know in your next paper whether this Shields is a Whig or Democrat?"' The satire is first directed against the Democratic party, and then concen- trates upon Shields, who is designated in the letter by an irate Democrat as "a fool and liar," for which epithets the reasons are given. But the cul- mination is a farcical picture of Shields at a Springfield party and his behavior toward the young ladies, speaking with "a most exquisite contortion of his face," and indulging in that awful hand-squeezing of the fair ones lasting "about a 232 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. quarter of an hour." The letter from the Lost Toionships was printed in a local newspaper and became at once the talk of the town. It should be here noted that this production of Lincoln is written in the Western dialect and dia- logue, with the corresponding local grammar and spelling. It is one of the earlier instances of a literary form which has developed enormously since Lincoln's httle skit. On this side it is a kind of prophecy of the modern dialect novel and novelette, which seem to be exploring and exploit- ing every corner of the country. Lincoln loved this sort of fiction, which apparently culminated for him in the letters of Petroleum V. Nasby from the "Confederate X Roads" — (compare his letter from the ''Lost Townships"). ''Dana," asked Lincoln some thirty-two years after the present time, "have you ever read any of the writings of Petroleum V. Nasby?" Dana was a literary man, able writer of leading ed- itorials, but in those days Assistant Secretary of War (18G4). He replied to the President's ciues- tion: "No, sir; I have only looked at some of them and they seemed to me quite funny." Dana evidently appreciates but does not sympathize with Nasby; Stanton, Secretary of War, also pres- ent, neither appreciates nor sympathizes, and so does not understand one full side of Lincoln's nature. The three men were gathered to scan the returns of the Presidential election of 1864, which LINCOLN IN A DUEL. 233 were coming in by telegraph. There is no doubt that Lincohi was deeply anxious about the result of that election, nor was he then without solicitude for Grant in \' irginia. But during a little- lull in the returns, he breaks out: "Well, let me read you a specimen"; then he pulled out a thin, yellow- covered pamphlet from his breast-pocket and began reading. The rest can be told in the words of Mr. Dana: "Mr. Stanton viewed this proceeding with great impatience, as I could see, but Mr. Lincoln paid no attention to that. He would read a page or storj^, pause to con a new election telegram, and then open the book and go ahead with a new pas- sage. Finally Mr. Chase came in and presently Mr. Whitelaw Reid, and then the reading was in- terrupted. Mr. Stanton went to the door and beckoned me into the next room. I shall never forget the fire of his indignation at what seemed to him to be mere nonsense. He could not under- stand, apparently, that it was by the relief which these jests afforded to the strain of the mind under which Lincoln had been so long living, and to the natural gloom of a desponding tempera- ment — this was Mr. Lincoln's prevailing charac- teristic — that the safety and sanity of his intelli- gence was maintained and preserved." Such was ]\Ir. Charles A. Dana's view of the foregoing side of Lincoln 's character, in our opin- ion the correct Aicw, gained by a very competent 234 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. judge through daily intercourse with the President for a considerable time under the most trying cir- cumstances. Only one qualification we would like to make: Desponding gloom was not Lincoln's prevailing characteristic, for it did not prevail with him, he always overcame it in the end, yea, was always overcoming it, transforming it into hope, faith, o])timism. Read his writings, look into his actions; he never despaired morally of the extinc- tion of slavery, nor institutionally of the preserva- tion of Union and Constitution. At the same time melancholy was a dark, ever-present, surging undercurrent in his soul, a temperamental inherit- ance, which he had to ba.ttle with incessantly and put down. Have we not seen him doing so al- ready? Indeed, from this inner war and its vic- tory flowed his main strength for the great outer war which raged about him with so many harass- ing fluctuations. Blue devils and black were al- ways clutching him, but he whirled them down into their own gloomy Inferno, showing undoubt- edly many external signs of the conflict, among these, doubtless, the reading of Nasby. The gates of Hell, to apply to him one of his scriptural allu- sions, could not prevail against him. Dana's suggestion, however, that Nasby's humor was one of Lincoln's ways of relieving his overburdened spirit holds good, and is generally recognized at the present time. The further hint, that his sanity was preserved through such a safety-valve for his LINCOLN IN A DUEL. 235 volcanic emotional upheavals, is also worthy of the best thought of the student of Lincoln, and receives no little confirmation from certain experi- ences of Lincoln's earlier life, as already narrated. Picking up again the letter from the Lost Town- ships, we find that it was not the end of the litera- ture on this subject. The fountain having been tapped, two young ladies, friends of Lincoln, pro- duced a little spirt on their own account, still in dialect and dialogue. In this second letter (not by Lincoln, recollect), the country widow offers, for the sake of peace, to marry Shields, whose fighting ambition is also burlesqued; indeed, he is half dared to a duel in the mockery of these two irresponsible maidens. Then, again, that rich theme of hand-squeezing is introduced, of course, being mentioned no less than four times in the brief epistle. We infer from the repeated stress upon the matter that these two young ladies must have carried their hands in a sling at least three days after their first encounter with the gallant Irishman. Finally comes the third effusion by the same authoresses, who now drop prose and take to poetry, to rhymed couplets of the Popian style, possibly suggested by the Dunciad, celebrating the marriage : " Rebecca the widow has gained Erin's son." The two young ladies who have unwittingly done an historic deed by having a hand in getting Lincoln into this scrape, are not nameless to the 236 ABnAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. biot>;rai)hor. Miss Todd (afterwards Mrs. Lincoln) and Miss Jaync (afterwards Mrs. Lyman Trumbull) are handed down to fame as the rollicking, bur- lesquing young ladies who dared scoff at Shields as duelist, and thus, it would seem, brought the duel to a head. (There is a question about the authorship of these letters. All three have been supposed to be the work of I\Iiss Todd. But Lin- coln in his apology acknowledgcvs the first only and disclaims the others. Liternal evidence points decidedly in the same dirix'tion). All tli(3 town began to titter at Shields, and to repeat the funny points of the letters, interspersed with fresh anecdotes and malicious witticisms, to which Shields' roaring gave new zest. He could not ai)i)ear on the street without being the center of grinning faces. It was a situation that the hot Irishman would meet by fight — fight the general guffaw, or at least the source of it, which Shields soon found to be Lincoln. Retraction or blootl is the alternative which he j)ret;?ents. Lincoln refuses to retract under a menace, and under such an "assumption of facts." V^arious attempts at re- conciliation failed, and both parties proceeded to the field of honor, which was on a desert island in the Mississippi, not far from Alton, to which nobody was permitted to go except the parties concerned. Lincoln, as the challenged party, had the right to select the weapons, and he chose cavalry broad- LINCOLN IN A DUEL. 237 swords of the largest size, well adapted to his great strength and the wide sweep of his arm. Most suggestive is the; second of his prehminaries, which runs as follows : A strong plank is to be fixed "between us, which neither is to pass his foot over upon the forfeit of his life." (The seconds, seemingly, are to shoot the violator on the spot). Then each has a line which he is not to pass, else it will be deemed a surrender of the fight. Let us omit all the outside details, which are voluminous enough, and see if we cannot probe at once to the very crisis of the affair, its turning- point from war to peace. In our judgment this is found in the words of a spectator which Miss Tar- bell (Life of Lincoln I., p. 288) has preserved and which we shall quote: 'T watched Lincoln closely while he sat on his log awaiting the signal to fight. His face was grave and serious. . . . Presently he reached over and picked up one of the swords, which he drew from its scabbard. Then he felt along the edge of the weapon with his thumb, like a barber feels the edge of a razor, raised himself up to his full height, stretched out his long arms and clipped oE a twig from above his head with th(! sword. There was not another man of us who could have reached anywhere near that twig." Such was, we have to think, the pivotal act of the duel, whereby it was whisked about from fight to friendship. For short Shields, "who could 238 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. walk under Lincoln's arm," must have seen that long, outstretched sword of Destiny clipping off the twig above with some foreboding of what it meant; his associates must have seen it, too, as a kind of prognostication of approaching Fate. There is little doubt that Lincoln, sitting on his log with "face grave and serious," evidently think- ing and watching, seized the right psychologic moment and enacted a brief prelude by way of forewarning, which whispers afar something like this : Do you see how I can reach out and tap you at any point without you grazing me in re- turn? At any rate, the duel came suddenly to an end. Shields was pacified, of course, through the inter- vention of friends, and Lincoln did not need any pacifying. Both the duelists returned across the river to Alton on the same boat, chatting together in a free-and-easy manner. Report has it that a crimson garment was seen lying in the boat by the neck-craning crowd on shore with a horrible shud- der; but when lifted up the bloody face-cloth was found to be a red shirt spread over a log. It is not told who worked that scheme as a finale bur- lesquing the whole duel, or more probably, spun a fitting yarn for the epilogue of the comedy. So Lincoln has played another grotesque part in life, this time on the field of Honor. Veiy unwilling was his act, and remained a repugnant memory. Herndon reports him once saying: "I LINCOLN IN A DUEL. 239 did not intend to hurt Shields unless I did so clearly in self-defence." Very possible seems liis assertion: "I could have split him from the crown of his head to the end of his backbone." That is just what he intended probably to impress upon Shields at the pivotal moment by the clipping of the twig overhead with his sword. But why did conscientious, Quaker-strained Lincoln accept such a challenge? We must deem him influenced by the Kentucky patriciate with whom he associated, and who, like the South generally, accepted the code in the last resort. He could not escape his environment, which would not let him back down at the ruffles of a little Hibernian fighting-cock. Verily his grotesquery has now found its limit in a peck of trouble. It is curious that political ene- mies never used this duel against him in later years, excepting possibly old Peter Cartright. Why did not Douglas, who must have known all about it, dilate upon the fact, particularly at Free- port, before an audience composed largely of duel- hating New Englanders? Possibly he feared Lin- coln's boomerang, for Douglas was also a pug- nacious little rooster, and had been in many a scrimmage. During the Presidential election noth- ing seems to have been heard of the awful charge that Lincoln had offered to fight a duel but never fought it. And now from this one case dueling spreads out and becomes epidemic in Springfield. Shields, 240 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART FIRST. having started on his war-dance with many a lyrical saltation and exaltation, sends a second challenge to a new offender who offers to fight "at to-morrow's sunrise in Bob Allen's meadow with rifles at one hundred yards' distance" — but no shot again. Then the seconds to Lincoln and Shields get embroiled in the quarrel of their prin- cipals, and prepare for a bloody encounter, which ends in a long and desperate paper-war without" anybody getting hurt. Says Lincoln in a letter to his friend Speed: "You have learned of my duel with Shields, and I have now to inform you that the dueling business still rages in this city. . . Meanwhile the town is in a ferment and a street- fight somewhat anticipated." Truly grotesquery, like the laugh, is catching, and once started, goes through the whole community. And it is not with- out danger to the patient, who at least feels morti- fied after having to play the part of universal fool before the public. Let Shields, if he wishes, act out his Irish bulls and utter them, too, as one may hear even in his challenge, which threatens the doing of terrible deeds, "which no one will regret more than myself." In fact. Shields, in his brilliant contradictions and grandiose absurdities, seems an incarnate Irish bull on the rampage, always run- ning the imminent danger of breaking its neck, yet always lighting safely on its feet again. A unique and fascinating talent it was, which lured Lincoln unconsciously into a kind of competition in gro- LINCOLN IN A DUEL. 241 tesquery, in which he was quite as comic as Shields, though in a different way. So great and keen was his self-ridicule in the matter that he could not bear to have it recalled, according to Herndon; apparently he could not stand his own inner laugh at his grotesque action. But what about the two young ladies who had in their frolic given- the last stroke toward bringing on the duel, even if Lincoln had first set it in mo- tion? One may be permitted to guess that they were in a tearfully repentant state of mind during these days, and made good resolutions to hold in check hereafter their dangerous literary gift. Great must have been their relief when both the duelists returned to Springfield, the one unhurt and the other placated. But now rises to the surface a new strand of Lincoln's Destiny, hitherto present but concealed: Love is seen unfolding fleetly out of this affair of Honor. Miss Todd had been betrothed to Lincoln, but an estrangement had set in, whose clouds had begun slightly to clear away, when down upon them drope this duel in which both have a part. Unwittingly she had helped to get the man whom she loved into what seemed a great danger. But now it is past, and the torrent of emotion rushes rapidl}' to its goal . In a littte more than a month after the duel, Abraham Lin- coln and Mary Todd were completely reconciled, re-engaged, and united in marriage. 242 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. V. Lincoln's Marriage. It would seem, then, that Lincoln was in the process of being whirled rapidly into matrimony- through the duel with Shields, which, however, was not directly about the young lady at all. Women have been a prolific source of duels among men; but Lincoln himself did not know that the real and lasting prize of the contest was a wife. This was the serious and life-long outcome, which undoubtedly had other c.o-operating conditions beside the duel. There had been already an en- gagement, then a breach, but finally a re-engage- ment, followed speedily by a wedding. It is recorded that on November 4th, 1842, Lincoln was married to Mary Todd, and thus en- tered upon a new phase of life, we may say, of in- stitutional life. For the Family, that intimate and permanent union of one man and one woman, of which the supreme end is to preserve and perpet- uate humanity itself in an institutional way, opens quite another world to its members. It settles the individual hitherto drifting, and holds him fast to an inner aim, and usually to an outer locality. Lincoln now casts anchor in the sea of life and roves no more, though he floats a good deal about to the length of his tether. In fact, we may well deem his marriage to be the conclusion of what we call his Apprenticeship. LINCOLN'S MARRIAGE. 243 He is now thirty-three years old and more; he has been going to school and taking a varied course; he has gained no little knowledge of the culture of the past, to be sure in a very informal and miac- ademic way. He has won his profession, and got- ten it well in hand, so that it will give him and his a fair living. But the greatest thing w^hich he has gotten is to know the People and their speech. Indeed, his whole life up to this time may be deemed a communing with the Folk-Soul, and the learning how to voice the same. He has become able to speak to the People or to make it speak to itself through him, to render it aware of its own deepest instinct and purpose. But if one school lets out, another takes in, and the discipline of life goes on. His first Period ends in marjiage, home, children; but also his sec- ond Period begins, which is to bear him beyond his community, beyond his State, to his Nation, whose new destiny he is to incorporate with his own. But more oj this in a later and better con- nection; at present we must touch upon the de- tails of his nuptials. Mary Todd, who becomes so deeply inwoven with Lincoln's life as spouse, was born in Lexing- ton, chief city of Kentucky's famous Blue Grass Region, December 13th, 1818, being thus more than nine years younger than Lincoln, and nearly 24 years old at her marriage. She came of the bluest blood of the old Kentucky patriciate, and 244 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. it is said that branches of her genealogical tree could be traced back to the sixth century. She was well educated, brilliant in conversation, witty, but also gifted with a sharp tongue. She came to Springfield in 1839 to live with a married sister, and of course was received in the first society, which was composed almost wholly of the Ken- tucky aristocracy. Lincoln became acquainted with her and was fascinated by her brilliant qualities. Not only that, but we have the right to think that he had his secret admiration for that long ancestral line which he himself did not possess — he born a poor white of the South, yet gifted with unique talent and mounting ambition. Note again those high-born Kentucky girls whom Lincoln wooed in his checkered career of courtship — that certainly shows the direction of his look and of his aspira- tion. He evidently was going to marry above his class, plebeian that he was socially and politically. He became engaged to Miss Todd in 1840, though her Springfield relatives shook their heads omin- ously at the match. ''Not suited to each other by birth and education," ran the whisper of the aris- tocratic Kentucky women who knew both, and who were friendly to both. The result was. a broken engagement, seemingly on "that fatal first of January, 1841." The truth seems to be that neither was marrying for love, pure and simple, but with an ulterior end. The LINCOiy'S MARRIAGE. 245 woman is declared to have been veiy ambitious, and once remarked that she was going to have a President for husband. There is httle doubt that the native talent of Lincoln was generally recog- nized in Springfield at that time; then he was the popular 3'oung fellow in town. Mar}^ Todd had an insight into his ability antl character, and wedded Jiis possible greatness ; and of the two it looks as if she came the nearest to having some love for its own sake — a streak of the genuine article, amid all the caprices of the spoilt child. As far as is known she had never had a serious case of love, unless a snapshot of it in her brief philandering with Douglas. Herein lies a difference, perhaps the basic one, between her and Lincoln. With him love had bloomed once in all its fullness and glory. Over and over again he has left on record what must be deemed intimations that Ann Rutledge was his only love. The fact was generally known, and must have come to the ears of Mary Todd. Her own cousin and intimate companion has given this account of the matter which seems to us the best: Lincoln "may have doubted whether he was responding as fully as a manly, generous na- ture should to such affection as he knew my cousin (Miss Todd) was ready to bestow upon him. And this because it had not the overmastering depth of an early love. This everybody here knows." 246 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. Such is indeed the pith of the trouble: Lincoln had once given his heart away and no longer had it to give. That "overmastering depth of an early love" is an allusion to Ann Rutledge. about which matter ''everybody here knows." The inner collision became so intense in Lincoln that he fell sick, mentally side, and according to his Boswell, reached quite the point of insanity. The la Iter's statement, however, is stoutly denied that on the first of January, 1841, the wedding was set, the bride was ready, the guests were assem- bled, but Lincoln failed to appear, having gone stark mad. So far probably matters did not pro- ceed, but the engagement was broken, and Lincoln was plunged into a deep fit of melancholia, which threatened to end in suicide. The similarity of Lincoln's present mental con- dition to that after the death of Ann Rutledge is striking. He has had a relapse to his former sor- row through his breach with Miss Todd on "the fatal first of January, 1841." It is indeed a sep- aration wdiich sympathetically brings up that fii'st separation through death. Li a letter written shortly afterwards (January 23rd, 1841), we have Lincohi's description of himself: "I am now the most miserable man living. If what I feel were distributed equally to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the earth. Whether I shall ever be better, I can:i(U tell; I awfully forebode I shall not. To remain LINCOLN'S MARRLiGE. 247 as I am is impossible; I must die or be better" (Works I., p, 45). This last sentence sounds like a threat of suicide. ■■ Again that emotional volcano which lay al- ways smouldering in Lincoln 's nature is having a violent eruption. But his former experience has taught him to be Fate-compeller over that most perilous part of himself — his feelings. And in these days the record shows that he went about his own business and that of the Legislature, of which he was a member. Intense self-suppres- sion he must have exercised, and at the end of the session he obtains relief by a visit to Kentucky with his friend Speed, who there falls in love him- self, becomes engaged, and passes through a spell of melancholia similar to that of Lincoln. One may think that Speed must have caught it from his deep sympathy with his suffering friend. At any rate Lincoln is called upon to give in turn consolation for the mental malady under which he himself has been bowed down; in relieving another he obtains relief. Suffice it to say that Speed and his dark-eyed Fanny ^^■cre married in February, 1842, and the husband, fully restored from his gloom, declares in a letter to Lincoln that "I am far happier than I ever expected to be." Let him, therefore, be dismissed from the hospital, with that dangerous sympathy of his, all of which can now go out in harmless caresses toward his wife. But Lincoln has no such vent for his emo- 248 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. tions, and hence we hear of relapses to gloom on account of ''the never-absent idea that there is one still unhappy whom I have contributed to make so. That still kills my soul. I cannot but reproach myself for even wishing to be happy while she is otherwise." In these words (written more than a year after the rupture of his engagement) we catch a glimpse of the bitter conflict still raging in Lincoln's breast. He is aware that he has received a love which he cannot requite, that he has roused an emotion for which there is in his power no true return. "That still kills my soul," and keeps calling up reproaches "for even wishing to be happy." Truly he has become more conscious than ever, just through this experience, that he bears in his heart an im- mortal love for another, who has vanished. Still after some five years this new attachment crosses his path, very different in kind, still an attach- ment, which, however, he feels to be relatively a terrestrial, mortal affair. AVhat is his duty? In the pain of the struggle we have already heard him calling himself "the most miserable man living." Tender-hearted Speed, a genius in sympathy who responded so deeply to Lincoln's conflict at Springfield, and helped to heal his lacerated spirit by consolation, carries the echoes of his friend's conflict with him to Kentucky and falls into a similar state himself. So Lincoln writes to him: LINCOLN'S MARRIAGE. 249 "I know what the painful point with you is at all times when you are unhappy : it is an apprehen- sion that you do not love her (your Fanny) as you should." Verily this is Lincoln's own trouble which Speed has so often had to soothe with his allaying power of sympathy. Now Lincoln's turn has come to perform the same priestly office for his suffering friend, which he does in another letter pointing out ''indubitable evidence of your undy- ing affection for her" in the crushing anxiety of the lover on account of a little fit of illness she had. So Lincoln pronounces his anxious friend to have shown the ultimate test, ''undying affection," concerning which the latter had been in a dark spell of doubt, which he soon gets over, winding up the matter by marriage, as already reported. But how about Lincoln? In the same letter he gives a brief, quite sulphurous glare of his torment : "You know the Hell I have suffered on this point, and how tender I am upon it." He too has an "undying affection" which has collided evidently with his betrothal and broken it, precipitating the poor sinner into "the Hell I have suffered." But he is seemingly mastering his demonic emotions, and slowly asserting himself anew as Fate-com- peller. So we rejoice at this gleam of sunshine shooting through the clouds in the same letter: "I have been quite clear of the hypo since you left, even better than I was along in the fall," espe- cially so (we may add) since I have been adminis- 250 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. tering the remedial consolation for my own mal-" ady to you, my friend, which malady, I imagine, I must have imparted to you through your sym- pathy. So we catch in these two years (1841-2) more of the inner soul-life of Lincoln than is visible at any other time. Through the preservation of a few letters in which he opens his heart both for re- ceiving and giving sympathy, we see in brief flashes what is going on there. He is working through a new and peculiar conflict of Love, hav- ing his own soul as the arena for both sides whose shock of battle shakes, even if it does not over- turn, the throne of reason. But we can also see him slowly emerging from the dark chaos of his emotional war as Fate-compel ler again, in a faint crepuscular promise of coming victory. But behold! another of those nodal interven- tions in the affairs of men which upheave revolu- tions and evoke new epochs in life. Down plumps the Shields duel upon Lincoln while he is engaged in compelling the Fates of Feeling and winning a rational mastery of himself. At once there breaks up a fresh overbearing swirl of the undercurrents of the soul. The duel with all its concomitants and echoes in other duels and in manifold reports and publications, fills full of excitements the months of September-October, 1842, and produces an unceasing public din. But the real, though hid- den noiseless fact of it for us is that Lincoln, in the LINCOLN'S MARRIAGE. 251 process of dueling, is also in the process of getting married. Mary Todd, having unconsciously gotten Lincoln into this dangerous scrape, could not have been without a strong access of anxiety and re- morse, which had the power of rousing afresh her suppressed love, for it seems to be agreed that she loved Lincoln and had chosen him against the ad- vice of her relatives. This choice of hers Lincoln knew, for we have heard him reproach himself for having contributed to make one loving human heart unhappy: "That still kills my soul." To be sure before the duel there had been a partial reconciliation, or rather an acceptance on the part of both of their separated lot; they had even friendly meetings at the house of a common ac- quaintance, editor Francis, where the letters which gave rise to the challenge of Shields were concocted. But we have to think that the duel itself, with its attendant emotions breaking over all restraints, was what brought about the sudden re-engagement, and the equally sudden marriage. What now of the future of this most important step? Not much need be added; already we have given certain prognosticating lines of what is to come, in the character of the woman, we hope with gentleness, yet with justice. One more trait, now to be developed fully in the Hfe of the family, has to be given to the picture : she was not lovely in her love toward the loved one. A great mis- fortune, to our mind, in any woman is it when 252 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. her very love undoes itself by becoming more ex- acting, querulous, sharp-tongued the stronger it is. In its very power it seems to turn to a kind of hate. Unlovely in her love, or liable to get so — such is the supreme fatality in this woman's na- ture. Abraham Lincoln is to be tested in the fire of that kind of a discipline henceforth to the end of his life. But how about Lincoln himself in this new rela- tion? He brings to it a different sort of allegiance, which could hardly help provoking in the woman a kind of immortal jealousy as her counterstroke to his immortal love for another. This other love of his she knew well, in fact, "this everybody here knows," as her own cousin and associate declared. So Lincoln's heart in his domestic relation was the abode of two Loves, not always internally harmo- nious — Love as an ever-welling passion and Love as a reflective obligation. Love as ideal and Love as real; or, we may .call them Love the beautiful and Love the dutiful. Both he possessed within himself in ever-present activity, often with discord enough. Then between the man and wife were striking contrasts sufficient under a little tiff to set the soul ajar — contrasts in birth, education, temperament, physique, even in politics, for Mrs. Lincoln is said by Hcrndon to have been decidedly pro-slavery in sentiment, the result of her South- ern breeding. That certainly would not comj)ort with Lincoln's deepest spirit or with his politi- LINCOLN'S MARRIAGE. 253 cal career, or with his supreme world-historical task. Thus Lincoln has a new Fate-compelling ordeal put upon him, life-long, ever-recurring. The alternative must have presented itself: Shall I requite, paying back like for like, and thus end in the divorce court; or shall I transfigure this relation also, elevating it into Love universal? There is no doubt that Lincoln fled often from his real to his ideal affection as his relief from domestic discord, passing through the vale of gloom on the way. But he always came out of it again into the serene atmosphere of his own highest nature, being driven to transcend the bit- ter reality. This lesson he had already learned by his former terrible experience in the evanishment of the first loved one. It was the strange lot of Mary Lincoln to keep ever alive Ann Rutledge in the bosom of her husband. She drove him to take refuge from her temper and conduct in the memory of his ideal woman, who awoke in him universal Love. The wife was not a Fate-com- peller; she did not make her husband forget in her and in her home the lost one, but rather forced him to bring back the image of the past love in an ever-renewing transfiguration. Cer- tainly toward her he had to be always exercising his forgiveness, his charity, his tender-heartedness, which thus became his habit toward all, his uni- versal Love as ever-present character. In tliis 254 ABRAHAM LINCOLN — PART FIRST. way she has an abiding place in his training, in this Apprenticeship, whose varied phases we are seeking to grasp. Still, before parting from her we must, in jus- tice, recall that Lincoln did not bring to her "the over-mastering depth of an early love," he laid not on her altar a whole heart's unreserved sacri- fice. She was second and remained second, and alas ! through her own deed she kept herself sec- ond, being unable to transcend the limit which her own fatal temper put upon her, unable in her woman's way also to transfigure Love. That the man on his side did, and won the reward. VI. Retrospective. Truly a stormy courtship Lincon has experienced at Springfield — what with Douglas, what with Shields, what with the young lady, what with himself. But at last he has gotten to port and is anchored for life, not without breakers often run- ning high into the harbor and dashing the fastened vessel around within the length of its rope which is often sorely tested. So we have come to the end of one considerable cycle of Lincoln's life when another begins. Or, we may say that the novel, after many ups and downs of the hero, many sun- bursts and eclipses of love, has wound up in mar- riage, the time-honored conclusion of the ro- RETROSPECTIVE. 255 mance. But behold! if the one novel ends, just in that end another begins with its fresh batch of problems, adventures, sunlit radiances and hapless tears. Truly in this as in so many other cases the end is also the beginning. Indeed, the career of Lincoln at Springfield, or at least this part of it, seems to assume the form of the novel as its expression. A novel of Love Lincoln has now acted out in many of its details; a better novel it is, as we think, and certainly more lasting, than any of those old thin fictions of Mrs. Lee Hentz which he used to devour. We have often noted that Lincoln delighted in fable story, apologue, generally in fictional expression; in fact, it was this gift which got him into his trouble with Shields, through that bright skit of a "Letter from the Lost Townships," of course a written fiction, which, however, had the power of making itself the pivot of an acted fiction, if the name be allowed, of much larger proportions. Thus Lincoln's own little novelette of the country widow gets dangerously complicated with his big fiesh-and-blood novel at Springfield, of which he is the unwilling hero, both in its comic and its serious parts, for it must have both if he is the central figure. A novelistic form, then, Lincoln's career takes at this period, moving into it and with it naturally, altogether spontaneously, as if it were the native garment of the man's soul-life just now. Very different was the idyl of New Salem from 256 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART FIRST. this novel of Springfield. The locality, the social environment, gives the artistic atmosphere in which the individual is placed and acts his part. Lincoln, the central character whom we are fol- lowing and seeking to utter, passes from one to the other internally as well as externally. The idyllic life of New Salem he experiences to the full and then quits, has to quit, and to move on into the novelistic life of Springfield with its far more highly developed society. From tliis point of view we may conceive him as passing through a line of literary forms with their corresponding contents of living experience. Hardly can we Homerize Springfield as we did New Salem; it will not let us, being in a different social stage and demanding a different utterance of itself. Yet each has its hero, yea, the same hero; each its conflict of love, each, too, a certain grotesque coloring, even in the tragedy of it. But enough! the idyl has ended, and the novel has ended, at least in this part. And still further, Lincoln's Apprenticeship has ended, or what we regard as such in this bio- graphic exposition. In the main he has been going to school to the Folk-Soul of the North- West, whose speech, whose ways of thinking, in general, whose spirit he has come to know; we may add, whose deepest unconscious aspiration he has learned to feel, indeed, to forefeel. To be . sure he will have a time of estrangement from the Folk-Soul, whence results a better acquaint- RETROSPECTIVE. 257 ance with it, followed by a new and final recon- ciliation. All this lies in the future, and need not be further unfolded here. Such^ in a wide sense, has been Lincoln's edu- cation. Could its place have been taken by a College or University? The question has been often discussed whether an academic training would have been an advantage or a drawback to Lincoln for his work. Professors, College Presi- dents and University Chancelors will naturally look at the matter from one side; men of affairs will, on the whole, be likely to lean to the other side. The pith of the solution must penetrate to the nature of academic life w^ith its peculiar dis- cipline. Does it have a tendency to produce a separation, and indeed an alienation from the popular way of thinking, from full sympathy with the Folk-Soul? If the Hall of Learning is in- tended to withdraw the individual from his ordi- nary social environment and to put him into a new and different world, then its method of edu- cation is just opposite to that of Lincoln, whose Apprenticeship is directly to the People, whom he must learn to know to the bottom, and who are, therefore, his main course of study. The way he took was, doubtless, the best way for training him to his task; possibly it was not the only way, though this may be questioned. Still it is highly probable that no school would have wrecked Lin- coln's career, not even a University. part Seconb^ In general the great fact of this Part Second now before us is that Lincoln rises to the Nation, participates in the soul of the Nation, and finally becomes the voice of the Nation and its chosen leader. He separates from the Single-State to which his political career has been hitherto con- fined, and moves forward into the United-States as a whole, grasping and formulating its problem. From the Folk-Soul not only of Illinois but of the Union-born Free-States of the North- West he has (258) LINCOLN'S NATIONAL CALL. 259 next to pass to the Folk-Soul of the total Nation and get acquainted with it also, for it is what he has ultimately to deal with and to lead into its new Order. His Apprenticeship to his own im- mediate State and Section he has fairly served and it is now to be transcended ; he knows his people well and can speak to them in their own dialect, and moreover has begun to feel in ad- vance, if not to see, the place of the North- Western Folk-Soul in the coming evolution of the Nation, Of course this separation from his own does not mean that he leaves them behind ; he is not going to quit his State and the free North-West. On the contrary he will take them along with him to the national Capital and install them in it, or at least their deepest principle. Lincoln as their rep- resentative will indeed make them over into the Nation, but the unique fact of his career is that he will make the Nation over into them in its ap- proaching transformation. The full development of this process belongs to the future of the pres- ent biograph}^ ; here, however, we may throw out a faint glimpse of it beforehand in the statement that all the States, free and slave, are to become, transcendently through Lincoln, both Union-born and free, such as are already the States of the North-West, through their very birth. The sweep of this Second Part of Lincoln's life we put under the rubric of his National Call, or 260 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Vocation, which deserves a word of explanation. He hears an inner call to go to Washington and there to make himself national, after having served his time in the Legislature of his State. Such a man the Nation also calls, for it needs him and must test him at the Capital. This testing Lin- coln undergoes with results hereafter to be told. But the deepest fact of his National Call is that he becomes the Nation's voice and calls it to the supreme world-historical task of the Age. Already in the debate with Douglas he has risen to be na- tional and utters the great impending duty. Fi- nally the Nation calls him to be its leader in the crisis of its existence and elects him its President. Therewith enters a new period of his life. Lincoln thus rises in the present Period out of the "State to the Nation ; but when he gets to the head of the political organism he has a great fresh experience. The United-States he finds, if not quite disunited, yet deeply rifted and going toward disunion. Reaching the Capital at Wash- ington, he realizes that this Nation is double and separative — a fact which he knew from a distance at Springfield, but which he there did not and could not realize. Slave-States and Free-States are the two contradictory elements composing this Union — the oil and water of our political compo- sition. Moreover in number the two kinds of States are about equal, and seek to remain equal as regards the admission of new States. Thus a LINCOLN'S NATIONAL CALL. 261 line of division runs through the Union from East to West, and insists strongly upon continuing itself to the Pacific in the new territory won by the Mexican War. At this point the time's searching struggle probes down to the deepest fact of the Federal Union, namely, that it is productive of new States and thus perpetually self-creative. Hitherto it has produced both Slave-States and Free-States, double births of black and white. Shall this two- fold and contradictory generation go on? That is really the national problem into which Lincoln plumps down when he alights in Washington as representative. The South is saying that the Double Nation in its pivotal function as State- producing is not to be changed, else the Slave- States will dissolve the Union and go ahead alone. The two sections are bickering over the new lands gotten from Mexico; which kind of States shall they be when they enter the Union? Shall the Union be Slave-State producing, or Free-State producing, or both? It is evident that the prob- lem reaches down to a transformation of the Union from its hitnerto dualistic character. Moreover this is just the problem which Lincoln is to work over and settle within himself during the present Period of his life. Li general, we have already seen his theoretic opposition to sla- very, notably in his legislative Protest of 1837. Bat the subject has now become overwhelmingly 262 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND practical, and Lincoln in Congress begins to deal with it as the fundamental question of the Nation. He there takes his stand that the Federal Union should be productive of Free-States. Such is the meaning of his many votes for the Wilmot Proviso. This we may deem the political instinct which he bears out of the Free-States of the North-West. In their case and in their case alone the Union has been Free-State producing, and this their birth-mark Lincoln carries with him to Washington impressed on his own soul. And we may add, this is what he is to nationalize in his career; chiefly through him is the Nation to be- come Free-State producing only, and thus to wipe out its ever-conflicting dualism. Let us note, then, the striking difference at the present time between the North-West and the Na- tion as a whole. The one is united, composed of free homcogeneous States born of the Union; but the other is divided, double, composed of heterogeneous States, free and slave. The ideal United-States, which is to go forth and make itself real, transforming the old Union into its image, lies in the North-West, and Lincoln is its typical man or hero, who chiefly works the grand transformation. But not yet ; he is to pass through his prepara- tory discipline. He first becomes as dualistic as the Nation, in becoming national; if he votes for the Wilmot Proviso, he also votes for a party LINCOLN'S NATIONAL CALL. 263 which ignores it, and against a party which recog- nizes it. In consequence of such a scission in thought and conduct, he passes into a pecuHar eclipse and time of subsidence, till he emerges at the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise. Then he ascends into a new epoch in which he becomes the voice of the Age, proclaiming that this Nation shall henceforth produce only Free-States. Such is his Message to his People, in which he, national- izing himself anew, rises into the realm of the World's History, Accordingly Lincoln, mounting to the Nation, finds it to be double, and this doubleness he ac- cepts throughout what we call his Second Period. He realizes that it was born double, and that it was established double in the Constitution, which he does not propose to overthrow or even to alter. Still he has different attitudes toward this fact during the present Period — three main attitudes, as we see them. First he becomes aware of the national dualism through his Congressional career, and appropriates it, making it, so to speak, his own dualism as a national man. So he accepts through compromise the Federal Union not only as actually double but as creatively double, though with a deep inner protest, which ham- strings him politically and for a time drives out of politics into an eclipse. Finally, at the Repeal of the Missouri. Compromise, he takes his third atti- tude toward the Double Nation, that it, though 264 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. it be double, both slave and free, must produce singly, begetting hereafter only Free-States. Dur- ing these eighteen years (his Second Period), he will show an evolution through the foregoing three different stages or attitudes. Moreover, he attains during this Period his pivotal conviction that the Double Nation cannot continue such, but must move out of its dualism into unity. A famous saying of his runs: "It will become all one thing, or all the other," all slave, or all free. The half-and-half time is drawing to a close: "This Nation cannot endure half-"felave and half-free." Still we are to consider that Lin- coln during this entire Second Period accepts the Double Nation as intrenched in Law and Consti- tution. He holds, however, that that its genera- tive power as State-creating can be made single constitutionally, and the 'increase of Slave-States thus be stopped. But he does not intend to touch the already existent Slave-States. So, between his conviction and his action there is a gap st'll ; though he believes that this Nation cannot con- tinue half-and-half, he is unable now to help it, during the present Period. But the World-Spirit has for once gotten in a hurry, and soon whirls Lincoln, its supreme protagonist, at first against his will, into a conflict in which he will realize to the full his prophetic maxim that this Nation must be- come all one thing or all the other. And he finally succeeds in making it all one thing — all Free-States. LINCOLN'S NATIONAL CALL. 265 Looking back again to the previous Part, to the Apprenticeship, we see that it is preparatory, putting its main stress upon the How, while the present Part is to emphasize the What. Having fairly learned how to reach the Folk-Soul, Lincoln must next tell it what it has to do. To be sure it already feels the message of the time, but it must be made conscious of it, and accept it as its own. Instinctively it bears the impress of the Age, of the World-Spirit, but that dumb instinct must be elevated into clear knowledge through the voice of the mediating orator, who speaks to the People the behest of Civilization. Such an epochal Talker Lincoln is to become in the present Period, especially toward the last of it in his de- bate with Douglas. His call is to the Nation that it put itself in line with Universal History, obey- ing the injunction of the World-Spirit. So he makes the People aware of its true vocation; in- deed, the People becomes self-aware through the voice of its Great Man, who tells to it its own deepest purpose and aspiration, even if previously quite unconscious of the same. Lito the national vortex of struggle Lincoln is to be drawn and whirled around during the pres- ent Period, discovering in his experience the piv- otal difference between his own State along with the North-West and the United States as a whole. Accordingly the reader is now to make a vicarious pilgrimage of evolution through the Period of the 266 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. dual Lincoln and the dual Nation. At the same time he must not neglect to observe that each is moving toward unity through the other — the man through the Nation and the Nation through the man. Each overcomes its dualism through the other; the leader is primordially inspired by the Folk-Soul to a new Union, and then he leads the Folk-Soul to make that Union institutional, whereby he gives to it an enduring reality. And in this preparatory outlook let us not fail to direct the eye upon that other great political character, complementary to Lincoln, yet anti- thetic physically and spiritually. Somehow they cannot be wholly sundered in that ultimate view which rises to universality. Opposites they do in- deed remain, but still they are halves of a larger whole, and unfold with each other in a kind of symmetrical contradiction. Accompanying Lin- coln as the shadow of his other Self, or his op- posing genius, and circling with him through this entire Period to its last point of time, moves his antitype Douglas, as if both belonged together like the obverse and reverse sides or incarnations of one greater spirit — greater than either and em- bracing both. The representative counterparts of the one supreme movement of the Nation, they seem inseparably twinned, yet diametrically polar- ized. Very deep runs the synthesis in these two antitheses. To the eye of History, Lincoln cannot do without Douglas, nor can Douglas do without LINCOLN'S NATIONAL CALL. 267 Lincoln. It is really Douglas who, all unconscious, gives to Lincoln his supreme opportunity to be- come national, yea, world-historical through the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise; and it is really Lincoln who, all unconscious, gives to Douglas his supreme opportunity to do his great- est national deed in support of Union and Con- stitution. Joined in a bond of reciprocal opposi- tion, each circles his orbit in the one vaster pro- cess of the Nation till they both at last come to- gether and interlock in their single basic love of country. So we can well title Lincoln and Douglas after an antique conception the Dioscuri of this pres- ent Period, the twin sons of Zeus the Highest, though born of a mortal mother; not indeed are they divinely twinned from birth in an immortal love, like those old fabled twins of the God, but they live mutually repellent and oppugnant in character and even in stature — not sympathetic brothers in joint heroic toils but deeply antipa- thetic in strifeful combats. And yet these mutu- ally battling Dioscuri of the Prairie, begotten spiritually of the same supernal parent, haol far down in their hearts an undying common love of their parental land and of its chief institution, the Union. That love, tested by fire, will at last reveal itself as deeper and stronger than their hostility and fuse them together in one supreme purpose. 268 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. It may be here added that in the organization of the present biography of Lincoln, we shall be- hold these coming eighteen years (his Second Period) falling naturally into three sexennial por- tions or Epochs, each of which has its own mean- ing and process, as well as its function in his total life. To each, therefore, a chapter will be sep- arately marked off and assigned. CHAPTER FIRST. from State to IRatlon. Lincoln is, therefore, to be nationalized, passing from the Capital at Springfield to the Capital at Washington, rising from the Single-State to the United-States. It is an experience which practic- ally renders him national; he as Representative has to make laws for the whole Nation. He has to move out of the bounds of his special locality and hold in view the entire country. Already he has been legislator for one State, now he is to be legislator for all the States. Thus he is brought into direct contact with the national problem of the time and gets acquainted with the men who are working at it from various points of view and from different parts of the land. Illinois is a product of the Union as State-maker, in and through which Union Illinois as State par- ticipates in the making of new States. Now the pivotal question of the time is going to turn upon this national act of State-making, or the produc- tion of new States out of acquired territories. Ill- inois by herself cannot produce a new State, only the Union can, to whose genetic power she, how- ever, contributes through her Congressional repre- sentatives. Abraham Lincoln as a member of the Lower House from Illinois will have considerable (269) 270 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. experience with this matter of the creation of new States out of the territorial domain of the Union. In fact it is to be seen that he now strikes the fun- damental and enduring key note of his political career: the Union as State-producing must pro- duce only Free-States. Lincoln, however, does not at once sweep for- ward to his prize. He has to make three trials for his party's nomination, but on the third trial he wins and is elected. He serves only one term when he retires, and his Congressional period comes to an end never to be resumed. He will indeed return to Washington a dozen years after- ward, but as President. In 1849 when he quits Congress and goes back home to his State and its Cai^tal, he has passed through a distinct epoch of his life, during which his chief ambition has been to make himself national. But he is remanded to his starting-point and seemingly has to begin over again. Some six or seven years (1842-1849) we put into this epoch, which rounds out within itself one phase of Lincoln's experience. It is a curious fact that during these same years Douglas is traveling the same road to the Capital, he also is nationalizing himself by moving from the State to the Nation. But Douglas far outruns Lincoln in the race, hav- ing become Representative and finally Senator in just the foregoing stretch of time. When Lincoln enters the Lower House, Douglas enters the Upper. HOPE DEFERRED. 27 1 Indeed Lincoln seems to be turned back, while Douglas seems to be pushing onward. Both are moving, each in his own orbit, toward a common goal, the highest gift of the American People; wliich will gain it? At present Lincoln is to be seen becoming na- tional; thus he gets aware of the Nation as dual and falls into the dualism himself. He will try to take up both sides, but really drops into their contradiction. In this way the national rift of the time finds its reflection in his career and also in his soul. So Lincoln, having advanced from State to Na- tion, is, at the end of his Congressional term, whirled back from Nation to State. Thus we ob- serve a little cycle of life rounded out into a kind of completeness. But he returns to his starting- point a very different man; now he has the na- tional dualism in his soul which becomes the silent and quite unseen arena of the two conflicting sides till the time brings his liberation. But first we must follow his slow ascent to the national fountain-head — the tedious struggle of a full sex- ennium. I. Hope Deferred. Lincoln, having served four terms in the Illinois Legislature, deemed that he had done his (kity to his State. He refused re-election, and set about 272 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. taking the next important step in the line of pro- motion. He did not wish to be Governor, though his name was mentioned for the position. He must advance out of lUinois to the national center. His ambition was to be Congressman, and in 1842 he opened his canvas. The Springfield district was composed of a number of counties, and there was no lack of able candidates. Lin- coln was not successful, indeed he had to take a double dose of defeat. Not only did he not get the nomination of his own party, but he was beaten in his own County of Sangamon by Edwin D. Baker, who fell at Ball's Bluff in the Civil War. Still Baker did not get the nomination, but the prize came to John J. Hardin, who perished at the battle of Buena Vista in the Mexican War. Lincoln, however, was one of the delegates of San- gamon to the nominating convention, with in- structions to support Baker, so that he compared himself to "a fellow who is made groomsman to a man that has cut him out, and is marrying his own dear gal." The most interesting point in connection with this candidacy is Lincoln's view of the social and religious influences which swamped him in Sanga- mon. He was defamed as an aristocrat, an in- fidel, and a duelist. In a letter which gives the reasons why ''the people of Sangamon have cast me off," he declares: "It would astonish if not amuse the older citizens to learn that I HOPE DEFERRED. 273 (a strange, friendless, uneducated boy working on a flat-boat at ten dollars a month) have been put down here as the candidate of pride, wealth, and aristocratic family distinction." Already we have noted that Lincoln on going to Springfield asso- ciated chiefly with the Kentucky patriciate; here is a political echo of it, quite to his surprise. Still his old friends of New Salem and the Clary Grove boys clung to him, even if he "had married into the aristocracy. This, by the way, was the year of his marriage. Lincoln speculates curiously upon "the strangest combination of church influ- ence against me. Baker is a Campbeflite and therefore, as I suppose with few exceptions, got all that church." So Lincoln seeks to fathom why ''the people of Sangamon have cast me off," evidently a stunning blow to him, or several of them, which seem to have beaten down upon him from different unsuspected directions. Religion appears to have largely entered the contest, since "it was everywhere contended that no Christian ought to go for me, because I belonged to no church, was suspected of being a deist, and had talked about fighting a duel." That was indeed the bitter pill in the whole transaction: the de- fection of his own home to his interest. The result is, that Lincoln has to wait a while before he can make that much-desired journey to the centre of the Nation. And to tell the truth he can afford the delay, smce the time has no very 18 274 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. important issue, certainly not Lincoln's great issue. In 1842, the question of slavery extension was quiescent, and Tyler's administration had no hold upon any party or upon the people. But in 1844 the proposed annexation of Texas roused a new political interest, which culminated in the de- feat of Henry Clay for President, of whom Lincoln had become an ardent supporter and admirer. Lincoln was a lukewarm opponent of annexa- tion; for that matter, Clay was too, and in his fa- mous letters during the campaign of 1844, shifted from side to side. Lincoln declared: "I perhaps ought to say that individually I never was much interested in the Texas question. I never could see much good to come of annexation, inasmuch as they were already a free republican people on our own model. On the other hand, I never could very clearly see how the annexation would aug- ment the evil of slavery. It always seemed to me that slaves would be taken there in about equal numbers with or without annexation." Lin- coln holds that the addition of Texas, which, as an independent Republic, was already a Slave-State, would not increase the influence of slavery. On this point he differed widely from the strong anti- slavery men of the North, who maintained with truth that the annexation of Texas added much to the political power of slavery in the LTnion. Al- ready we see the race between North and South HOPE DEFERRED. 275 for the winning of new States, which meant the supremacy of one section over the other, or at least their equihbrium. The popular sentiment as a whole, even in the North, favored the acquisition of Texas. If the American Union is to be productive of States as its supreme function, then it must have territory on which it can realize its own highest nature. The claim of Mexico to Texas was that of might greater than Spain, the previous claim of Spain was that of might greater than the Indians, who in turn were invaders, having driven out antece- dent inhabitants. Bands of Americans had gone into Texas and wrenched the country from Mexico, and, moreover, had founded a State after the American pattern, which had asserted for years its right of existence. Annexation touched profoundly a responsive chord in the American Folk-Soul, which felt in it the State-creating acji. Both Lin- coln and Clay responded to the same feeling, in spite of their opposition. To be sure there was a note of discord in this matter, inasmuch as the new State was to be a Slave-State. A party had already risen in the North which was determined that the Union should produce no more Slave States. At this point Lincoln's opposition comes in, and he gets his persistent theme : slavery must be kept out of the territories. The Union must indeed be State- producing, but must produce Free-States only. 276 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. The Nation might be united upon the acquisition of territory, but it would certainly be deeply divided if such territory were handed over to slavery. II. The Mexican War. During the last days of December, 1846, Con- gress admitted Texas as a Slave-State. Previously it had been an independent government with its own law and constitution, and the question has been often propounded. Did the United States annex Texas, or Texas the United States? Prac- tically, however, Texas was a product of the American Union; Americans had settled it as a territory, wrenched it from Mexico, and organized it as a State after the American pattern. Its anomaly was that the hardy pioneers had seized upon a land r^ot belonging to the Federal Union, and had shown their State-making capacity in an entirely independent fashion, without the super- vision of the central government. Thus the story of Texas has a peculiar character different from that of any other State; in this regard it remains a Lone Star in the Union. As was expected, the act of the United States produced war with Mexico. General Zachary Taylor was ordered to the Rio Grande where he took up a position opposite to Matamoras. On May Sth, 1840, was fought the battle of Palo THE MEXICAN WAR. 277 Alto, and the next day that of Resaca de la Palma, both of them American victories which thrilled the country and overbore opposition to the War, except in New England. Taylor's victo- rious career continued, culminating in the battle of Buena Vista (February 23d, 1847), in which he defeated a Mexican force under Santa Anna four or five times larger than his own. He became at once a popular hero, and was soon put in line for the Presidency by the Whig party, which on the whole had opposed the war, but soon got ready to reap its political fruits, even through its own self-negation. Quite as successful was the campaign of General Scott terminating in the capture of the City of Mexico (September 14th, 1847), after which he was soon displaced by the Democratic administra- tion, doubtless out of jealousy of the Whig com- mander. The treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was signed February 2nd, 1848, by which Mexico ac- cepted the Rio Grande as boundary, and ceded Upper California, which embraced a large territory equivalent to more than ten States of the size of Ohio. This new territory was again to be the apple of discord between the Slave-States and the Free-States. Already in 1846 the possibility of acquisition of territory from Mexico had called forth the Wilmot proviso, "that neither slavery nor involuntary servitude shall ever exist therein. ' ' This little sentence becomes for many years the 278 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. pivot of political discussion between the North and South. It is a declaration that the Federal Union shall be henceforth productive of Free- States only; Wilmot of Pennsylvania introduced it, but its author is said to have been BrinkerhofT of Ohio Now in this same year of 1846 Lincoln was first elected to Congress. He had been a Clay elector for Illinois in 1844, and became a well- known campaign orator throughout the State. He paid a visit to his former home in Indiana near Gentryville in 1844, where he made a speech to an audience composed largely of his old neighbors, whom he had quit some fourteen years before. The occasion also inspired a batch of verses which have been preserved. The memories of his youth brought back the old habit of ihyming, which was one of his boyish knacks. It seems that he wrote four "cantos" of which he sent a couple to a po- etical friend nearly two years after they were written. The popular ballad was evidently his model, and he has a number of pretty poetic fan- cies, in spite of some mistakes in grammar and some limping measures — certainly not worse than his popular prototype. The tone of the two printed ballads is sad, and in one of the accompa- nying letters is an allusion to his favorite poem, usually called "Immortality," of which he says: *T am not the author. I would give all I am worth and go in debt, to be able to write so fine a THE MEXICAN WAR. 279 piece as I think that is. Neither do I know who is the author." Certainly Lincoln must have had some poetic ambition, if he would have given so much to be the author of this lyric. He goes on : "I met it in a straggling form in a newspaper last summer (1845) and I remember to have seen it once before about fifteen years ago," which would throw his first acquaintance with it back to the year 1831, when he first arrived at New Salem. There is no doubt that the poem became deeply interwoven in Lincoln 's soul with the evanishment of Ann Rutledge, and was for him the utterance of an eternal love, which he seemed to recall and breathe in through its pensive strain. Worthy of notice is it, therefore, that we now catch the most distinct glimpse of Lincoln as seek- ing to master creatively another literary form of the People. For the ballad at its purest fount wells out of the popular heart anonymously, be- ing an immediate, spontaneous utterance of the Folk-Soul itself, like the true legend, yea, hke lan- guage also. The name of no individual as author is stamped upon the mythology of a people, though a great poet like Homer transforms, and indeed organizes it, and many later singers and artists draw for their use from this primordial well-head of the Folk's expression. Significant is it, there- fore, to see Lincoln actually balladizing, and turn- ing up to the sunlight a new vein harmonious with his fabling. For both ballad and fable are twin 280 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART S CJND. utterances of the Folk-Soul which it is Lincoln's supreme literary function to voice, laden, however, with the new and far mightier content of the- Nation and the Age. Furthermore, it may be here added that Lincoln as fabuHst, deals not in the traditional fancies of old Greek legend. Quite nothing do we hear from his mouth about the classic nymphs of the brooks, of the trees, and of the hills; nor could he make the Olympian Gods grind in his literary Pantheon ; the whole Greek mythical world was alien to him, though he must have been running his nose perpetually against it in his reading of poetry and oratory. What is more surprising, we catch next to nothing of the transmitted stream of Teutonic folk-lore in Lincoln's fabling, though in this stream he and his ancestral line must have been dipped for untold generations. One might think that the neighboring forest with which Lin- coln lived in sympathetic communion during his entire youth, would have started in him, or at least re-vivified the old Germanic folk-tale, such as we see in Grimm, with its fairies, elves, witches, and magic spells. Little or nothing of the sort do we find in Lincoln's stories; the supernatural Powers of the European Mythus he seems to turn from, in spite of a native tendency to foreboding and even to superstition, as he confesses. His fabling rests upon the new consciousness of the American backwoodsman, who recognizes no im- THE MEXICAN WAR. 281 passable line between himself and the forest, for he cuts it clown and converts it into his own home. Moreover, he, as freeman, determines the institu- tional world which determines him, makes the law which he obeys, and thus is truly self-determined. Hence he introduces no mighty monarch or beau- tiful princess coming from fairyland or from a far- off outside realm, to give him golden gifts which are properly his own, or to bring to him that jus- tice which he is to bring to himself, of course through his own self-created institutions. So it befalls that Lincoln having to appeal to the Folk- Soul in its own speech, suggests by the way a new folk-lore, though this of course is not elaborated, and he is largely unconscious of his own pro- cedure. His fabling, if true to his environing re- ality, cannot be of nature determining man through its play of mythical forms, such as we behold in European story, but of man determin- ing nature by his axe and plow, and in general by his mind, for that is the fact before him, and even this fact rests upon a still deeper foundation, namely, that of a free institutional world. Accordingly Lincoln's story-telling, especially in the form which it takes, reaches down to a very deep layer of American consciousness and of his own. Folk-lore, transmitted by the poet, sage, fabulist from generation to generation, is the first teacher of the People. Moreover, it is in a condi- tion of continual transformation, for it must be 282 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. wrought over again and again to image the ever- changing, social evohition of the Folk-Soul. Pro- foundly significant of the new institutional order in America is the fact that Lincoln, as fabulist to his People, eschewed the shapes of external au- thority, which are the dominating powers of the European Mythus, ancient and modern, Northern and Southern. All this seems far enough away from the Mexi- can War with which we started. But we should never forget the bubbling fountain of fable which Lincoln carried around in his heart, quite ready to send forth a little jet of itself if rightly touched, and which gushed up spontaneously from the deepest depths of his being. III. Lincoln as Congressnnan. The Democratic opponent of Lincoln in his race for Congress was a famous Methodist preacher, Peter Cartwright, who, born in Tennessee, had moved as a young man from Kentucky to Illinois, in order to live in a Free-State. Thus he be- longed, like Lincoln, to that great migration from the South into the North- West, for the purpose of getting away from slavery. A certain rude, mag- netic power liiy in the man, which produced as- tonishing effects at the revivals and camp-meet- ings of the backwoodsmen. Cartwright seems to LINCOLN AS CONGRESSMAN. 283 have made religion the chief issue with Lincoln, who was again held up as an infidel, as a duelist, and as an aristocrat. His superior fitness for the position, however, was so apparent that he was elected by a large majority. Lincoln has now climbed to a very important rung in the ladder of his ambition ; he is at last to pass from the State to the Nation, from Spring- field to Washington. Still he finds a deep discord in his situation; he in common with the Whigs opposed the Mexican war, yet he felt compelled to urge its vigorous prosecution in a public meeting at Springfield. His Whig friends had rushed pell- mell into the struggle which to him was of doubt- ful right. In the Illinois delegation to Congress he was the only Whig. He began to feel out of joint with the time, and especially with the people of his State. Of this lack of harmony between himself antl the Folk-Soul we catch a slight echo in a letter to his friend Speed: "Being elected to Congress, though I am grateful to our friends for having done it, has not pleased me as much as I expected." He gets in advance a whiff of that dissonance which he is certain to meet at the Cap- ital of the Nation. A year had still to pass between his election and the time when it was necessary for him to start for the national Capital. During that year took place the most brilliant victories of the Mex- ican War — the battle of Buena Vista and General 284 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Scott's triumphant march from Vera Cruz to the city of Mexico. Lincohi looking at that dazzling military pageant far off in a Southern land, and observing the intoxication of his own people, might well have his presentiments in regard to his political future. He, in his heart an opponent of the war, felt with every victory the inner and deepening clash between himself and the Folk- Soul, so that he was really no longer its represen- tative even in his own district. And as the situa- tion already was, he stood forth the solitary Whig in Congress from Illinois. No wonder that the election ''has not pleased me as much as I ex- pected." Hitherto the popular heart and his heart have had one pulsation together, but now they begin to beat differently, yea, antagonistically. Still that separation is just what now must take place, for through it Lincoln gets to be himself within himself, wins his true independent individ- uality. After this estrangement he will return to the Folk-Soul, not to be absorbed into it again as one of its protoplasmic atoms, but capable of being its leader. Lincoln set out for Washington in November, 1847. Thirteen years and some montlis later he will again take his departure from Springfield for the Capital of the Nation under very different cir- cumstances. That rift which is already beginning and which he feels, is to widen into open disunion and war. In the boarding club, "Mrs. Spriggs's LINCOLN AS CONGRESSMAN. 285 mess," where Lincoln lived while at Washington, was Joshua Giddings of Ohio, the rankest aboli- tionist in Congress, and also some southern mem- bers. Fiery disputation over the slavery question sprang up which, it is said, Lincoln would calm and turn into a laugh by one of his funny stories. Still at the dinner-table he had to witness the bitter controversy of the time, in which he could not help participating. The separation in his own party also he must have felt, since Robert Toombs and Alexander H. Stephens, both of them ardent pro-slavery members from Georgia, were Whig leaders, very hostile to the Wilmot proviso, for which Lincoln repeatedly gave his vote. What could better call up in his soul the great national dualism of which he was to get the full experience at the Capital? At this session of the House the Whigs had a slight majority, enough to elect Robert C. Win- throp as speaker, who was able to unite both wings, Southern and Northern. On the whole the Whig party was opposed to the Mexican War, but its majority had to vote supplies for the army, always with a kind of protest. There is no doubt that Lincoln braced up to greater opposition at Washington than at Springfield. In fact it is de- clared that he had resolved in Illinois to say as little as possible about the war during his Con- gressional career. He knew that the people of his State strongly favored it — a fact ever present to 286 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. him as the soHtary Whig Representative of Illinois. But when he found that his party had the ma- jority in the House, he changed, he began to take the color of his environment. He voted for the resolution of Ashmun of Massachusetts that the war had been unnecessarily and unconstitutionally begun by the President. This was a slap in the face of his constituency, and brought a protest even from his partner and friend, Herndon, who declared to him frankly that he was committing poHtical suicide and destroying his own party. But Lincoln did not stop with voting for another member's resolutions; he drew up and offered a set of his own December 22, 1847. These have been nicknamed the "Spot Resolutions," since they call upon the President, Democratic Polk, to describe ''the particular spot on which the blood of our citizens was shed," repeating the word "spot" three times with a special emphasis. The implication was that the President and not Mexico was the aggressor, and that the war was unjust. There is no doubt that in these transactions Lin- coln has broken with the Folk-Soul of his State, and in fact of the North-West. The acquisition of territory for the creation of new States was felt to be a necessity by the People. The claim of Mexico and of Spain before her was weak, and could not stand against the right of the settlers who had conquered the territory. Lincoln has set himself indirectly against the State-making in- LINCOLN AS CONGRESSMAN. 287 stinct of the American Folk-Soul, and is certain to get the backstroke of his act. When he left Springfield, there had been already talk of his re- nomination, but after his first session in Congress no such outlook was mentioned. Secretly underneath Lincoln's opposition lay the fact that the new territorial acquisitions were to be made into Slave-States. At present, however, his hostility runs counter to any possession of the lands bounded by the Rio Grande. Such a limi- tation was felt to be a suppression of the national spirit, which the People were certain to resent. Clearly Lincoln's Congressional action in the Con- gress of 18-17-8 has whelmed him into a deep con- flict with his own constituency. The discord, however, belongs to the time, to the party, to the Nation, and will never cease till slavery itself be aboHshed. In his new position Lincoln did not let his su- preme gift of story-telling rust from disuse. Says a listener: "By New Year's (1848) he was recog- nized as the champion story-teher of the Capitol." He would tilt back his chair, stretch out his long legs (it is not reported that he "cocked them up" in Washington as he did in New Salem), and open with his ever-recurring prelude, "That reminds me" of something that occurred down in Egypt (Southern Illinois) or during the Black Hawk War. This picture of him at the table has also been handed down: "When about to tell an anecdote 288 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. during a meal, he would lay down his knife and fork, place his elbows on the table, rest his face between his hands" and strike up his unfailing overture, "That reminds me." It is also said that "he never told a story twice," but seemed to have an inexhaustible stock laid up in due order and ready to go off at the least touch. The bowling alley was also a favorite place of his, and would attract a crowd of men to see him and hear him ; he was a very awkward bowler, and could easily push this awkwardness to the point of bodily gro- tesquery, accompanied with a fitting joke or story, "some of which were very broad." But underneath all this extravagant humor, which at times reached the point of buffoonry, the conflict of the age was entering Lincoln's soul and cleaving it into two contradictory parts, which imaged the nation, and which he had to harmon- ize within, ere he could restore them to unity without. IV. The Campaign of 1848. During Lincoln's first Congressional term there was a good deal of President-making. Candidates were to be nominated, and the question buzzed in Washington, particularly about the halls of the Capitol, Who is the coming man? With the Whigs, their great leaders and orators, Clay and Webster, were clearly impossibilities. The Mexi- THE CAMPAIGN OF 1848. 289 can War had thrown them out of harmony with the People as a whole. Moreover, the Whig party had opposed the war, but could ride into office only on the wave of the war's popularity. Under such circumstances it soon began to be perceived that General Zachary Taylor was the most avail- able candidate in the field. He was the popular hero of the triumph over Mexico, and one of the ardent advocates for his nomination instead of Clay, who had sulked during the war, was our Abraham Lincoln, who had denounced it as unjust and unconstitutional. June 7th, 1848, the Whig Convention assembled at Philadelphia, and on the fourth ballot the hero of Buena Vista was nominated. There was no plat- form, no declaration of principles; an attempt to introduce the Wilmot Proviso in regard to the new territories was not allowed to come to a vote. The burning question of the time was smothered without giving forth a single spark. Never did a political party so completely stultify itself. The Whiggery of Taylor was very dubious, but that made no difference; Whiggery itself was dubious, particularly dubious of itself. He was not bound by any platform. Anyhow, the party was going to vote for the hero of a war whose injustice and unconstitutionality it had often, and even passion- ately, affirmed. The victory of such a party means its death ; it votes for its own negation. The interest for us at present is that Lincoln, .19 290 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. through his ardent support of the Whig party in its nomination of Taylor, gets embroiled in all its contradictions, and begins to explain them away for himself and for others. He makes a speech in the House of Representatives (July 27th, 1848, see Works, I., p. 135), which gives a very significant picture of the Lincoln of that pivotal moment. He had voted more than forty times for the Wil- mot Proviso ; it was really the cardinal doctrine of his political faith, and bore in itself the basic prin- ciple of his whole future career. Why should it, above all things, be suppressed by his pa.rty? And a candidate chosen whose opinion about it is at least unknown? But let us hear Lincoln himself : "I admit I do not certainly know what he (Taylor) would do on the Wilmot Proviso. I am a North- ern man, or rather a Western Free-State man, with a constituency I believe to be, and with per- sonal feelings I know to be, against" the extension of slavery. As such, and with what information I have, I hope and believe that General Taylor, if elected, would not veto the Proviso. But I do not know it. But if I knew he would, I still would vote for him," not only against Cass but against Van Buren, the nominee of the Free- Soilers, whose platform strongly affirms the princi- ple of the Proviso. There is no doubt that Lincoln felt the inner dissonance of his position. Through the labored explanations of his speech runs an un- dercurrent of his soul's protest, which he seeks to THE CAMPAIGN OF 1848. 291 divert by making fun of Cass. Lincoln has fol- lowed his party, into the deepest discord with him- self, and with his true destiny. He has been brought face to face with his party's political sui- cide, and his own, t(>o, of which act he seems not fully conscious. But it will lay him on the shelf for many a long year, till he recovers and wakes up a new man. In the same speech Lincoln undertakes to allay another very real discord: ''As General Taylor is the hero of the Mexican war," how can he be consistently supported by "the Whigs who have always opposed the war?" It is a troublesome matter without question, but Lincoln grapples with it, drawing the "distinction between the cause of the President, who started the war, and the cause of the country after it was begun." But now that it is over, the Whigs do not think of restitution, but rush headlong to pluck the chief fruit of what they branded as injustice and a vio- lation of the Constitution. Truly Lincoln has been whelmed by his party into a state of inner scission and self-contradiction, of which he is as yet only partially aware, but upon which he will be given time to ruminate a good deal. At Washington Lincoln associated with Southern Whigs, some of them men of great ability, such as Toombs and Stephens of Georgia. Their bent was toward slavery extension, in bitter hostility to the Wilmot Proviso. Lincoln formed a politi- 292 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. cal club with them and co-operated in hushing the anti-slavery protest in the party, really voting down his own votes, forty and more, for the Pro- viso. We doubt if this gave him much peace of mind. Rather did it make him twinge the more restlessly at his self-contradictory conduct. After the close of the session of Congress, Lin- coln goes campaigning Northward, where he gets into another atmosphere, and in consequence ex- periences another political twist wrenching his soul. New England was strongly anti-slavery, and mainly Whig, but seemed to be making up its mind between Taylor and Van Buren. At Wor- cester Lincoln spoke: he dwelt upon the restriction of slavery, and argued that Taylor and the Whigs, who were silent upon the subject, were more to be trusted than Van Buren and the Free-Soilers, who made the Wilmot Proviso the main plank of their platform. Still Lincoln would have hardly risked such a speech at Washington before his W^hig club, composed of Toombs, Stephens, Pres- ton, and other Southerners. Again, he could not help feehng the dissonance in his conduct, as well as in his party and in the Nation. He is begin- ning to get conscious of his own double attitude, and of the coming struggle so carefully hushed by both Whigs and Democrats in 1848. He heard Seward speak in Boston, and is reported to have said privately: "Governor Seward, I have been thinking about what you said in your speech. I THE CAMPAIGN OF 184S. 293 reckon you are right. We have got to deal with this slavery question, and got to give much more attention to it hereafter than we have been doing." Surely the chief issue of the Age cannot be silenced, and Lincoln begins to feel his own and his party's discordant attitude. From the East he goes back to Illinois, where he makes speeches for Taylor, who is elected by a handsome ma- jority. He returns to his Congressional duties and serves out the rest of his term, toned down considerably in- his activity. One measure he seeks to bring about : the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia. In this, however, he is foiled at the time and has to wait till he be- comes President. On March 4th, 1849, Lincoln's Congressional career ends with the inauguration of the Whig President. What can he do but go home to work over and out of the soul-harassing dualism into which he has been precipitated? He has indeed made himself national; he has verily taken up the Double Nation into himself, but like- wise it has taken up him into itself, and trans- formed him into its own contradiction, which it, too, is to work over and out of in the coming years. Both the man and the Nation are thus seen to have their problem, similar, yet separate; each is to set about its solution apart on diverg- ing lines in the next epoch, till finally they will come together again under new conditions. 294 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND And now we have reached the point at which we are looking about for Lincohi's other Self or antitype, the doughty Douglas, who has been at Washington during this whole epoch, in the daz- zling perihelion of their common orbit, flying ever toward the central luminary, while Lincoln has been rushing to his remotest aphelion, where he is destined to wander long years in a kind of peni- tential obscuration. But no despair! he, too, will slowly whirl about and sweep Sunward. V. Lincoln and Douglas (3). So we bring before the eye again our national Dioscuri, moving together as extremes to each other, in a sort of antipodal conjunction. Let not this fact of a common basic substrate be forgot- ten in their diverse courses, for it must unite them at last. But during the present epoch (1842-9) their apartness is verily the striking point in their comparison. Douglas is at one with the Double Nation, whose dualism has so deeply gone into Lincoln and rendered him discordant with it and himself. Douglas is in tune with the Folk-Soul of his State, and has plucked its highest honors; but how about our Lincoln? Still both are coun- terparts and are seen reaching out from the same State to the same goal — the National Capital ; each seeks to become lawmaker to the whole Nation. LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (S) 295 And underneath the ambition of both lurks a still greater prize, the greatest of all, the Presidency. Each has in his heart the dream of every Ameri- can public-man, yea, of every American boy, who has in him the possibility of reaching the top of the political ladder. Lincoln and Douglas have both become national in their activity, having risen from the State to the Nation — so much they have done in common during this epoch. The second striking fact in the comparison of their careers at the present time is that Douglas has dashed out far in advance of Lincoln. He had entered the National House of Representatives in 1843, and had been chosen again in 1845. Lin- coln had failed both these times to get the nomi- nation in the Springfield district for the same posi- tion. At last, after two failures, he won the prize and went to the opening of Congress in 1847, where he saw Douglas taking his leave of the Lower House for the Upper. Thus they were not brought face to face in their contest, as they had been in the Illinois House of Representatives in 1836. Their lines did not cross, though leading in their same general direction; they seem never to have associated in Washington, though they had long known each other. But just behold the Gods pouring down upon the head of Douglas their bounties in that coi)ious year 1847! First of all the Legislature of Illinois elects him its Senator, and Lincoln, entering the 296 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Capitol, could behold his younger rival winging ever upward, far ahead of him in fame and honor. Then Douglas was at once appointed Chairman of the Senatorial Committee on Territories — really the most important chairmanshi}) of Congress. In the House he had already held the same posi- tion, in which he had made himself the great au- thority upon, as well as the Congressional super- visor over, the vast area of the North-Western territory out of which a dozen new States could in time be made. It shows unquestioned insight that Douglas seized upon the pivotal function of the Union as State-producing for his special sphere of activity in the National Legislature, since he thus placed himself at the center of the Nation's History for the coming twelve years. And let us not forget the crown of all these earthly blessings — his marriage with a fair lady of the South, wealthy and of high social position. And this, too, was showered down upon him from that cornucopia of a year 1847. It should also be added that during these same months many a whisper among his friends suggested him as a candidate for the coming Presidency, though he was only thirty-four years old. But next year (1848) by the time of the Presidential election, he will be thirty-five, the age required by the Con- stitution for the Chief Magistrate of the Nation. A significant act of Douglas occurred in con- nection with his marriage to Miss Martin, the LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (3) 297 mentioned Southern lady, in 1847. The day after the celebration of the nuptials, his father-in-law handed him a deed of a plantation stocked with slaves in Mississippi. Douglas at once declined the present and returned the deed, stating that he was a Northern man by birth, education, and residence, and that he expected to remain such; moreover, that he was ignorant of that descrip- tion of property, and would have to decline the responsibility of taking care of it. But he added that he was no abolitionist, and had no sympathy with their wild and ultra views. Afterwards the grandfather left the estate to the children of Mrs. and Mr. Douglas. The latter once in the Senate declared, in replying to an attack: "I was unwill- ing to assume responsibilities wliich I was inca- pable of fulfilling." Always the question will come up: Did Douglas assign his true motive in this statement? We be- lieve that he did not personally like to be a slave- holder; he was a born New-Englander and was an Illinoisan by adoption; so much of the Northern spirit he shared. But if any other man wished to hold slaves, he had nothing to say in moral repro- bation; and if the Southerners wished to make Slave States, he could look on and say, as he did later: •''! don't care." Undoubtedly he saw it would be a drawback to his political prospects in Illijiois, if he was known to be a slave-owner in Mississippi, and that motive must have co-oper- 298 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. ated in making him so keenly sensitive to the dangerous responsibihty of such property. Still, we must think that Douglas, otherwise quite in- different, was personally averse to owning a human being. And this the Southerners knew, and hence they always distrusted him. The act just men- tioned, generally known as it was, must have been offensive to the slaveholder. Douglas openly declined his company, refusing directly to be one of the great and powerful Southern oligarchy, which never forgave him, in spite of his services. This we shall see when the test came in three successive Democratic Conventions which nominated can- didates for the Presidency. Douglas remained unpopular with the Southern wing of Democrats, who did not fail to take some other Northern man as their true friend or tool. This may well be deemed the secret breach of Douglas with the Southern President-makers of the coming decade, a breach which he will try in vain to heal, till at last he grows defiant and sphts his party. In the year 1847, accordingly, Lincoln, as he en- tered Washington, could have seen his lucky anti- type in a state of superb efflorescence. For Douglas then took his seat in the Senate from their common Illinois, so far ahead was he, though four years younger; also, his wonderful flowering seemed to find fit expression in his leading to the altar a blooming bride, wealthy, cultivated, of the inner social circle at the Capital. But we must LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (5) 299 mark at the same time the fatal counter-stroke in the happy prospect : Douglas offends at the most sensitive point the ruling spirits of the South, of his Party, and of the Nation. Unconsciously he breaches his own Destiny in the very moment of its seeming triumph. Never will he be President now in spite of the most flattering prospects ; the Southern Warwicks will not accept him but will slaughter him in Convention after Convention, making the way finally for one Lincoln. Still Douglas is on the topmost wave of honor and political success, when Lincoln leaves Wash- ington in 1849, in a discord with himself and with his people. The Springfield district had elected a Democratic representative to succeed him, having discarded his old Whig friend. Judge Logan, who was the nominee. This result was openly attrib- uted to Lincoln's course on the Mexican War. Lincoln, therefore, feels that he goes back to a constituency which has rejected him. He em- braced at first the idea of taking office under the Taylor administration; he thought of accepting the governorship of Oregon territory, but his wife objected; he applied to be the Commissioner of the General Land Office, but failed. He was thrust back into his old Springfield vocation of a practis- ing lawyer, and had in a manner to start anew. Douglas kept in harmony with the Folk-Soul of the" State; Lincoln was out of tune with it, and had to win it over again. 300 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Lincoln must then bide his time. Issues are arising which will completely reverse their pres- ent conditions; in 1854, Douglas will experience the angry hostility of the Folk-Soul for his repeal of the Missouri Compromise, while Lincoln will rise to the surface once more concordant with his people. This will, indeed, constitute a new epoch in the life of Lincoln, yea, in the life of both these antagonists. But at present Douglas is completely triumphant, and stays at the Capital, always ad- vancing in honor and influence, while Lincoln is remanded back by the Presiding Powers over his destiny to his State for what we can now see to be a new training. Casting another look at Lincoln's fortune-nursed antagonist, that antitypal Douglas, we observe once more that he rises to a prominent place in the Senate during these two years (1847-9), and becomes the Chairman of the Committee on Ter- ritories, at that time altogether the most influen- tial position in the Senate, or rather in the legisla- tive branch of the Government. For the grand coming problem of the Nation pivots just upon these Territories: Shall they be Slave-States or Free-States? Or, more deeply stated: Shall this Nation be generative of Slave-States or Free- States? Thus Douglas has planted himself at the very heart of the Nation's historic future; yea, at the turn of a node in the World's History. So we take a look at him, of course, with admiration, as THE DOUBLE LINCOLN, 301 he mounts up and perches himself on the highest pinnacle of his hitherto ever-mounting career. But what about Lincoln? See him in a thick cloud of native gloom, turning down the road from Washington back to Springfield, after his two years of Congressional experience, completely dis- credited by the people of his own section (the North-West), of his own State, and even of his Representative District. What is to become of him? VI. The Double Lincoln. The Double Nation has now certainly produced the Double Lincoln through his biennial experience at the Capital. He is, indeed, nationalized, having appropriated to the full within himself the national dualism. From that former inner one- ness and harmony with the Folk-Soul of his Sec- tion, State, and District, he has been whelmed into the vortex and raging contradiction of an un- united Union, which is sweeping more and more toward complete Disunion. Yet just this is what he has to take up into his soul now, and to work it and himself over into a new unity. Truly a time of severance, of discord, of negation, has come into his life — a deep breach with himself, with his People; yea, with the World-Spirit. 1. He has acted in opposition to the Folk-Soul as regards the acquisition of the territory which 302 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. extends Southward to the Rio Grande and East- ward to the Pacific. He has pleaded the law of nations in favor of Mexico, who wrested this ter- ritory from Spain, who wrested it from the In- dians, who wrested it from the mound-builders (probably), who wrested it from God knows whom (probably). The logic of this law of nations is that the strongest nation takes the prize, accord- ing Mexico's own deed and that of the rest. But there is a higher logic, we think and hope, than that of mere violence. Civilization demands of all peoples, savage or otherwise. What are you doing with that piece of God's earth entrusted to your stewardship? Are you making the most of it for yourself and for all the rest? If not, you must be brought to the account. So is now say- ing the Genitis of CiviHzation or the World-Spirit, which Lincoln, biased by party, does not at pres- ent hear, but will hear. 2. Lincoln votes for the Wilmot Proviso, whose essence is that the Union is to be henceforth Free- State producing. But at the same time he votes for a political Party which smothers this very principle in its Convention. Deeply inconsistent with himself he has become, and really subversive of his own destiny. He is still too much of a Whig partisan to vote for Van Buren, a Demo- crat, against whom he had fought two Presidential campaigns. Yc>t Van Buren with his platform is the open supporter of the Wilmot Proviso, Lin- THE DOUBLE LINCOLN. 303 coin's pivotal principle and the beacon of his future career. He has, therefore, to slough off the encumbering snake-skin of party — which he slowly proceeds to do, when the old snake itself dies and leaves him free. 3. Lincoln's visit to New England during the campaign of 1848, was significant to him in sev- eral ways. He became more decidedly conscious of the Double Nation and of his Double Self thai? ever before. From the dominating pro-slavery atmosphere of Washington he suddenly ran into a strong whiff of anti-slaveryism. He felt the change and emphasized in his speech the Wilmot Proviso and General Taylor's probable leaning to- ward Free-Stateism, though the General was a born Southerner and a large slaveholder. Then he turned his ridicule against the Free-Soilers, whose doctrine was chiefly the Wilmot Proviso. We hold that Lincoln felt the deep inner disso- nance of his own argument, which he sought to drown in his grotesquery. Then, Lincoln, what would your friends of the Whig Club at Washing- ton, Stephens, Toombs, Preston, say to your pres- ent anti-slavery turn? Do you not feel the two- facedness in your Whiggery, and what is more, in yourself? And can honest Abe long stand that? And far more profoundly than ever do you not feel the doubleness in the Nation? In fact, just this doubleness of himself and of his Nation is his problem, and furnishes his com- 304 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART SECOND. ing task. He is to undo both, first that within, then that without. But he must become aware of his own and the Nation's duahsm, ere he can per- form his work. His transition from South to North, from Washington to New England, has deepened to the bottom his consciousness, both of his personal and of the political situation. 4. In his visit to New England Lincoln caught a glimpse of another very significant fact: Anti- slavery disunionism existed there in no small energy, and shook hands with the pro-slavery dis- unionism of the South. He began to realize fully the difference between his own Free-States of the North-West and the Free-States of the North- East, both being alike in their freedom. But the one group sprang of the Union, the other not; the one was American-born, the other European-born, and each showed distinctly its birth-mark ; the one was national through origin, the other through agreement or compact; the one loved as its own very mother the Union, the other had no such mother to love. Lincoln felt this difi"erence be- tween the two groups of Free-States in affection for the Union, and he is destined to have more experience of the fact at a later time. Already in Congress we have heard him discriminate him- self: "I am a Northern man, or rather a Western Free-State man" — the North having both West- ern and Eastern Free-State men, one set quite distinct from the other. How Lincoln will union- THE DOUBLE LINCOLN. 305 ize the old Free-States of the North-East, for they, too, need it, belongs to a later chapter. But now we are to see Lincoln passing back from the Nation to the State, and quite sinking out of sight for a time, rent asunder and paralyzed by his inner conflict. Meanwhile Douglas, who has no such conflict within or without, mounts to his highest splendor and becomes the central polit- ical luminary of the country. 20 CHAPTER SECOND. Xincoln'0 Subetbence. So we designate a peculiar epoch of Lincoln's life, the six years succeeding his Congressional career. He reached the center of the Nation at the Capital, and there he came upon the deep scission of the time, in which he participated but which he did not and could not then solve. ''Go back, go back to thy Springfield" home," cry the Powers, "and labor at the mighty problem in the stillness of the night; for we have yet work for thee." So Lincoln went home and began anew the practice of his profession outwardly, but in- wardly there is little doubt that he had many meditations upon the meaning of his surprisingly discordant experience at Washington. Lincoln marks significantly this time of political Subsidence in both his little autobiographies. In the first he says: ''From 1849 to 1854, both inclu- sive, I practised law more assiduously than ever before. Always a Whig in politics, and generally on the Whig electoral tickets making active can- vasses, I was losing interest in politics when the repeal of the Missouri Compromise aroused me again." Which means that his Whiggism was vanishing and the political attitude of his party was losing its hold on him. Li his second sketch (306) CHAPTER SECOND— LINCOLN'S SUBSIDENCE. 307 of himself he reiterates substantially the foregoing statements, emphasizing that ''in 1854 his pro- fession had almost superseded the thought of poli- tics in his mind when the repeal of the Missouri Compromise aroused him as he had never been before." Then he comes to the surface again and starts on a new phase of his career, most import- ant of all. From his subsidence in 1849 till his emergence in 1854-5, extends the present epoch of Lincoln's life. We have to ask what was he doing these six years? Undoubtedly he was engaged in the practice of the law, but at the same time he was undergoing a profound inner revolution. Mentally he was occupied as never before. But the difhi- culty is that he has left almost no record of this time. Some of his anecdotes while he traveled the circuit have been preserved, but they were hardly more than his outer diversion, his relief from the pressing thoughts within. When he comes into the White House, we shall often witness him em- ploying them, not only for expression, but as the safety-valve of his soul's tense emotions. Lincoln was forty years old when he left Congress, being in the very bloom of his intellectual power, which he is undoubtedly exercising, even though in secret. If we look through his Collected Works for passing glimpses into his inner life during these years, we are surprised at the meagreness of the printed output. Perhaps the most important 308 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. document is his eulogy of Henry Clay, delivered July 16th, 1852. During the Presidential cam- paign of 1852, he confesses that he did little can- vassing for his candidate, Scott. Some scattered fragments on government, on slavery, on law, show his efforts at thinking fundamentally on these topics. Thus his outer life as historic almost dis- appears, having little or no record, not being in- volved practically in the political events of the time, though these must have influenced him. Still we catch now and then a glimpse of what he was thinking about, perchance of his deepest pivotal thought. He repeatedly said that the re- peal of ihe Missouri Compromise was, for him, the mighty shock of a new birth. The ever-recurring Kansas troubles kept the subject alive in his own soul and in that of the people. It is reported that on his circuit at this time he, to a great extent, dropped his story-telling, and was always discuss- ing with his legal friends the problem which had so ominously dawned upon the whole country. He would not dismiss it by day or night. Here is a suggestive bit which comes from a legal asso- ciate, Judge Dickey, who was attending court with Lincoln and several friends at the height of the excitement over the Kansas-Nebraska bill: One evening several persons, including himself (Judge Dickey) and Lincoln, waxed hot over the question of the day. The Judge, being strongly conservative, asserted that slavery could not be CHAPTER SECOND— LINCOLN'S^ SUBSIDENCE. 309 assailed in the States where it was established, as it was recognized by the Constitution. Lincoln maintained the ultimate extinction of slavery, and seemed to see the beginning of such an outcome in the repeal of Missouri Compromise. ''After a while," continues the Judge, "we went up stairs to bed. There were two beds in the room, and I recollect that Lincoln sat up in his night shirt on the edge of the bed, arguing the point with me. At last we went to sleep. Early in the morning I woke up and there was Lincoln half sitting up in bed. 'Dickey,' he said, 'this Nation cannot exist half slave and half free.' '0, Lincoln,' said I, 'go to sleep.' " (Miss Tarbell's Lincoln I, 288). This exceedingly significant and picturesque an- ecdote seems to be the first authentic record of Lincoln's famous dictum, which really contains the pith of his whole career and achievement: this Nation cannot exist half slave and half free. Nor should we fail to note the contrast between him and the legal-minded Judge, his companion, who regards the Constitution as the unalterable grand finality, though it provides for its own change, and who, typical of many thousands, refuses to hear the call of the age, bidding his agitated associate "go to sleep," while he seem- ingly turns over and takes another nap. But Lincoln does not go to sleep after such a mighty wrestle of the spirit; he will never go to sleep again upon this question till death overtakes 310 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. him with its last sleep, and till he has not only ut- tered but made real that "this Nation cannot ex- ist half slave and half free." Truly Lincoln has now heard the voice of the time, and is becoming its mouthpiece. The approaching great act of the World's History he has glimpsed and briefly form- ulated, as yet only in private "discussion. We may, indeed, say that he has risen to a vision of the World-Spirit, and has received its decree, of whose fulfilment he is to be the chief instrument. There can be no doubt that Lincoln, especially in 1854-5, keeps brooding deeply over the political outcome. He began even to think himself an Abolitionist — a name which he had always eschewed. He saw that the conflict could not end without the Nation becoming all one or the other, all slave or all free. In a private letter (August, 1855), he declares: "Our political prob- lem is: Can we, as a Nation, continue together permanently, forever, half slave and half free?" So he rc-iterates what he deems the pivotal ques- tion of the time, and implies his conclusion pri- vately. It is said that Lincoln proposed to de- clare in a public speech his new view, but was dissuaded by the advice of friends. At last the time came when he could be no longer deterred, when the real issue must be openly proclaimed. June 16th, 1858, in a speech delivered at the close of the Republican Convention which nomi- nated him as candidate for Senator against CHAPTER SECOND— LINCOLN'S SUBSIDENCE. 311 Douglas, he made his famous statement that "a house divided against itself cannot stand," to which he added that this government cannot en- dure permanently half slave and half free. Such was his overture to the epoch-making campaign between himself and Douglas. Long had he rumi- nated upon the thought, discussing it among friends and withholding its public expression for some three years. This conclusion he drew from the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. Again and again has the wall between freedom and slavery been put up by the old set of statesmen, but now it has been torn down, and, to tell the truth, neither side, neither South nor North, will allow it to be erected anew. Over the line each section cries out to the other: No restriction upon me. Slavery insists upon going into the territories, freedom insists upon keeping it out. And that is not all; each side is getting ready to fight; in fact, they grapple al- ready during 1855 in Kansas, and start the over- ture of the Ten Years' War, which Lincoln felt was approaching, though he did not expect it to come with such a sudden and mighty crash. So we conceive the main fact of Lincoln's epoch of Subsidence, lying at the center of his active life, and making a sort of subterranean channel be- tween the before and the after of his career. A long and silent incubation between his fortieth and forty-sixth years, we may well deem it a preuara- 312 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. tion for his coming task, a working himself free of the inner dissonance which he took home from Congress, where he voted for the Wihiiot Proviso, but supported a pohtical party which suppressed its principle. But when he discerns the inner voice proclaiming, this country cannot exist Judf slave and half free, he has heard the call of the World-Spirit, and his world-historical career has begun to dawn. During this sunken time of life, along with his introspection and questionings, Lincoln gave much effort to mending his defective education. His association with leading men at Washington caused him to feel his lack of knowledge. Among the few items for his Congressional biography he sets down: "Education defective." But partic- ularly his visit to Massachusetts and the East showed him his scholastic shortcomings, which he resolved to remedy. Famous has become his study of Euclid while upon the circuit. Literature also he delved into more seriously than ever; Shakespeare's dramas were read and pondered in their entirety, though he had known extracts from them since his boyhood. The School Read- ers of the time, notably Lindley Murray's, which Lincoln knew and praised highly, had passages from Shakespeare. Herndon observes that he studied law more seriously than ever before. A general inner reconstruction he evidently under- CHAPTER SECOND— LINCOLN'S SUBSIDENCE. 313 took, being thrown back violently upon his own limitations from the Washington experience. It is, also to be observed that he found his chief pleasure in traveling the circuit from county to county. The communion with the Folk-Soul was his delight; moreover, he was mending the breach between it and himself, caused by his attitude in Congress toward the Mexican War, He watched its response to the political movements of the time; especially did he feel its pulse in regard to the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, when he found himself in harmony with it again, after a long separation. Indeed, one of the main func- tions of this long Subsidence was to work an inner restoration of himself to the People, in which labor his great rival Douglas unconsciously came to his assistance. And that fortune-wreathed antitype of his, the well-rounded rubicund Douglas, must be noticed by way of necessary counterpart, verily the transi- tional Statesman bridging the old into the new, and always going up while Lincoln seems going or quite gone down, till the hour strikes for the sud- den turn in the careers of both. Again, we con- ceive of them as the antipodal Dioscuri of the age, twinned in celestial genius and planted as op- posites on a common territorial sphere, so that while the one sinks in the sundown, the other mounts seemingly irradiated in an eternal sunrise. But let us look again at them after the sexennial 314 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. revolution of an epoch: the one is seen slowly climbing above the horizon in a new radiance, while the other on his side begins his downward course to his luminous setting. As the deepest strain of Lincoln's character was political, and as he was the coming states- man of a great historic period, we have specially to look at the political events of this, his sunken sexennium, and to scan their influence upon him, as far as possible. The Nation was moving to- ward the crisis when it would have to get rid of its distracting, self-destroying dualism, and Lin- coln was moving with it, till he became its voice in the new epoch. Still, during these six years the double nationality made a tremendous effort to stay double peacefully, and to instill such doubleness into the People as the prime sentiment of patriotism. Every good American citizen was exhorted to be as dual as his Nation — so say in substance both platforms, Whig and Democratic, in the Presidential election of 1852. But that simply could not be; the human soul must at last come to unity with itself, in order to be itself. Then another decree was getting louder, sterner, and more imperious in the Folk-Soul, the decree that its dualism, both individually and nationally, must be eliminated. A voice mightier than that of the Nation began to be heard, commanding it to unify itself and thus to put itself in line with the movement of the World's History, which COMPROMISE OF 1850. 315 through its own development was requiring a federated Union of States in the American Occi- dent, and not a disunited Dyarchy. But our present task is to observe the dual Nation seeking to keep itself dual, and to watch the reflection thereof in Lincoln's unfolding. I. The Compromise of 1850. In the Congress succeeding that to which Lin- coln belonged, the slavery question broke out with greater fury than ever before. The South had set its heart upon making the lands acquired from Mexico into Slave States, to counterbalance the extensive territory of the Louisiana Purchase in the North- West, destined to become Free States by the Missouri Compromise. On the other hand the North, quite irrespective of political parties, had about made up its mind that no more Slave States should be formed out of the public domain anywhere. The cleavage between the two sections seemed to be widening, with not a few dire threats on both sides. The one American Folk-Soul had indeed become twain with a divided purpose, yea, with a divided conscience. It was at this point that Mr. Clay came forward with his attempt to heal the breach by a new compromise. In a way he belonged to both sides; he was a Southern man with Northern con vie- 316 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. tions, and his State lay, as it were, intermediate between North and South. The dualism of the Nation seemed to embody itself in him through the fact that he was an anti-slavery slaveholder. Clay had taken part in the Missouri Compromise of 1820, though he was not its author, as has been sometimes stated. He appeared again in the Sen- ate for the last act of his career, yea, for the last act of the compromising period of American states- manship, which recognized and sought to harmon- ize the inner dualism of the Nation. Lincoln in his Springfield home, ruminating on the same problem followed Clay, who had always been his pattern and Whig ideal. The pivot upon which the main trouble turned found its expression chiefly in the Wilmot Pro- viso, which Lincoln had so often voted for during his Congressional term. The South had come to hate it, while the North had largely adopted it, and made it a test of fidelity. The Wilmot Pro- viso implied the moral wrong of the slaveholder and the curse of slavery on the land; it had be- come, therefore, exceedingly distasteful even to the moderate men of the South, who were united against it as against nothing else. On the other hand the Northerner, who was hostile to slavery, with unflagging zeal supported it as the very touchstone of his principle. This main bone of contention Clay omitted and had to omit from his Compromise. Such action COMPROMISE OF 1850. 317 lost him the support of the more radical anti-sla- very Congressmen, but drew to him strong con- servative support, which pulled his measure through. Practically it was favorable to the Free-State men, since it provided for the admis- sion of California with her constitution prohibit- ing slavery, and for the organization of the terri- tories of New Mexico and Utah, just as they were, under the Mexican law which, unless set aside, se- cured their freedom. But no Wilmot Proviso, that reddest of red rags to the Southern bull, was allowed. The result was many Southerners supported the Compromise, though the extremists of their section were hostile to it from the start, joining hands with the Northern extremists in op- position. Seward and Jefferson Davis, the su- preme anti-slavery and pro-slavery protagonists, could be seen voting on the same side of the question. The outcome was regarded as a pretty fair division of the Mexican spoils between the two sections. The South had gotten Texas with the possibility of four more Slave-States while the North had practically secured the rest of the territory, though there was some uncertaintj'' about New Mexico. The general nature of the Compromise is well illustrated in the provision pertaining to the District of Columbia: the slave trade was abolished in its limits, but not slavery. The Missouri Compromise line was not a deter- mining element in the bill as passed, though it 318 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. rose to the surface often during the discus- sions. Such was the main matter, the territorial ad- justment, which was in general acceptable to the country. The Compromise of 1850 still recognized the dual character of the Nation as half slave and half free. Moreover it practically affirmed that each section was productive of new States of its own kind. The Union as genetic remained still double — both Slave-State producing and Free- State producing. The Wilmot Proviso had sought to deprive the Southern half of its self-creating power by excluding slavery from all the territo- ries. On the other hand the Southern extremists had maintained, with Calhoun and Jefferson Davis, that the common domain of the country should be open to slavery. There is no doubt, however, that the People as a whole embracing the moderates both Northern and Southern, found its consciousness reflected in the Compromise. Webster and Clay, the two greatest statesmen of the old school, upheld it and thus revealed the same dual character to be their own. In the light of the future we have to think that the movement of History, the spirit of Civilization, or what we have called the World-Spirit, had issued already a different decree from that of the Compromise of 1850. The clock of the Ages was already striking the deepest note of the time which proclaimed that this Nation cannot con- tinue half slave and half free. But the Folk-Soul COMPROMISE OF 1S50. 319 is not yet ready to respond to the behest of the World-Spirit. And Lincohi whose chief function is to be the voice of the coining era, is not yet ready, has not yet recovered from his Congres- sional dissonance. He with his forty votes and more for the Wilmot Proviso, accepts the Com- promise which totally ignores it and asserts essen- tially the dualism of the Nation. But we are not yet done with the present act. The extreme South was very clamorous for a vigorous Fugitive Slave Law, and got it from Clay. The peculiarity of this provision was that it assailed the moral conviction of the North, and brought up in every human soul of that section the question: Shall I obey Conscience or this Law, or even the Constitution? A whole people, of whom a large majority believed that slavery was wrong, were practically compelled to be slave- catchers for Southern masters. It may be affirmed that this jiart of the Compromise was re- pugnant to the Northern Folk-Soul, and began to make it think of wiping out the cause of such a deep contradiction within itself. ''This Nation cannot endure half slave and half free" was the doctrine preached with a mighty outlay of passion by the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850. Thus the Com- promise helped undo itself, yea it intensified in many a soul the very malady which it was pur- posed to cure. It rifted more deeply the already deep dualism between North and South. In the 320 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Northern Folk-Soul it produced a peculiar in- tense scission: it set the moral and institutional elements of man to warring against each otlier, inwardly and outwardly . Still for the time being a majority in the North, like Lincoln, accepted the Compromise of 1850 for its undoubted ad- vantages. But the execution of the Fugitive Slave Act often made the best spirits quiver through and through, as if undergoing a painful surgical operation, in the grinding clash between the two obediences, here to Conscience there to Law. Douglas took an important part in constructing and passing the Compromise measures of LSoO. He was chairman of the Committee on Territories and really was the author of the territorial part of the Compromise. It should be observed that he voted repeatedly during this session for the Wil- mot Proviso. But he openly declared that he did this not from his own conviction, but in obedience to instructions from the legislature of his State. Says he during the discussion of the Compromise: "I have always held that the people have a right to settle these questions as they choose [for ex- ample, slavery], not only when they come into the Union as a State, but that they should he per- mitted to do so while a Territory J' Here is the dogma of Popular Sovereignty, which is to play such an important part hereafter in the careers of Douglas and Lincoln. PRESIDEXriAL ELECTION OF 1S52. 321 The old 'statesmanship which sought to keep the Union double, but to keep its clashing halves concordant by compromise, wins a triumph again in 1850, but the last one. Douglas, the transi- tional statesman from the old to the new, helps make it and defends it when made, but mark well and look out for his blow four years hence! Lin- coln, has settled down at his Springfield home in a political eclipse almost total, languidly accepting the double masterpiece of his antitype Douglas and of his prototype Clay. II. Presidential Election of 1852. While Lincoln lay in the deep shadow of his Subsidence, there came upon him and upon the country a new election for the Presidency in 1852. On the whole the agitation of the slavery question had been quieted by the Compromise of 1850, though in the North the Fugitive Slave Law roused strong opposition when it was attempted to be enforced. It kept stirring up the conscience of the individual against the law of the land, and many were the efforts to harmonize the discor- dant twain. Shouts came from both political parties to the soul writhing in the conflict of two duties: Stop being agitated! With the blade en- tering the most sensitive part of man's nature, there must not be even a wince. 21 322 ABRAHAM LINCOLX—PABT SECOXD. The Democratic Convention nominated Franklin Pierce, a so-called dark horse from New Hamp- shire, when the old famous war-horses — Cass, Marcy, and Buchanan — could not win the prize, and the young steed, S. A. Douglas, only thirty- nine years old, but full of mettle, was whisked to one side. The unknown man again triumphed over the well-known statesmen of the party, and his record could be no burden. The platform was mainly a declaration of adherence to the Compro- mise of the last Congress, "the act for reclaiming fugitives from service or labor included" — which act also is irrepealable. Moreover, "the Demo- cratic party will resist all attempts at renewing, in Congress or out of it, the agitation of the slavery question." There is no doubt that this platform reflected the more c^uiet feeling of the country at that time; the future condition of the Territories was settled by the two Compromises of 1820 and 1850, and most of the anti-slavery democrats deemed that they must painfully en- dure as part of the bargain, the execution of the Fugitive Slave Law. The characteristic of the Convention was the inner harmony of the party with itself and with the prevailing tendency of the whole people in both sections. The Double Nation was affirmed again strongly, indeed pas- sionately, and the Union was proclaimed as dual in its very nature. The Democratic party now suc- ceeded in making itself the representative of this PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIOX OF 1852. 323 national spirit, and started its campaign with an outlook upon victory. The Whig Convention nominated again a hero of the Mexican War, General Winfickl Scott, practicing the same political stratagem which had been so successful in the cases of Taylor and also of Harrison. But the circumstances were much changed. The platform accepted the recent Com- promise, and therein was like the Democratic; also, the Fugitive Slave Law was to be enforced and the slavery agitation was deprecated. Each party thus had quite the same principles. The difficulty lay in the candidate, Scott, who was sup- posed to have anti-slavery leanings and to be un- der the influence of Seward, who did not accept the Fugitive Slave Law as the political finality, but favored its repeal or modification. The result was the Southern pro-slavery Whigs began to bolt the ticket ; probably the two ablest were the Georgians, Toombs and Stephens, both of whom refused to support Scott on account of his Free- soil associations. On the other hand not a few Northern anti-slavery Whigs were estranged be- caise the platform had smothered the protest against the Fugitive Slave Act. The outcome was that a third candidate appeared in the field, Hale of New Hampshire, on an anti-slavery plat- form, which attracted many Whigs in the North. Plainly the Whig party was going to pieces in both directions. Northward and Southward. The 324 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. candidate antl the platform represented two oppo- site tendencies, and could not be welded together by any kind of political solder. The lurking dual- ism of the Nation showed itself in this rift of the Whig organization. The Fugitive Slave Act was really the wedge which shivered the old party. The right of Conscience would assert itself against the Right of the formal Law, and the great Com- promise itself was compromised. In comparison with the Whig dissolution very striking was the Democratic unity, which could have no scission be- tween candidate and platform, since Pierce's [)erson- ality had almost no history, and counted for quite nothing or anything. He vanished in the platform which voiced harmoniously the general attitude of the Folk-Soul at that time. The result was an overwhelming Democratic victory, which showed the People closing its eyes to its own inner rend- ing dualism, and saying that this Nation must continue to exist half slave and half free. But this is just the Nation of which the other Power, called here the World-Spirit, has said: it shall not so continue to exist. Which of the two Powers, think ye, is the mightier? Lincoln was one of the Whig electors for Illinois, and did some canvassing, though less than usual, since he confesses to a feeling of helplessness for the cause . He certainly was not at one with him- self, nor with the people of his State, upon whose topmost wave he could behold his rival Douglas PRESIDEXTIAL ELECTION OF 1852. 325 swimming buoyed with boundless hope. Lincoln went to })ieces with his old party in 1852, and sank down after the election into the darkest night of his long political obscuration. During this campaign of 1852 (July 16th) he delivered a eulogy upon the death" of Henry Clay, recently deceased . As a whole it is not a strong performance. The peculiarly striking thing about it is its omission; there is no account of Clay's most recent and perhaps most notable political service in the Compromise of 1850. Only one faint allusion to it can be detected in Lincoln's own words, and one other allusion in a cited pas- sage from a newspaper. He spends most of his time upon the Missouri Compromise of 1820, and Clay's view of negro colonization. The fact seems to be that Lincoln was lukewarm over the Com- promise of 1850, though he accepted it as a dis- agreeable necessity. In the Democratic campaign of 1852 Douglas was doubtless at his best. It is said that he spoke for Pierce "in twenty-eight States out of the thirty-one." The fact is that Douglas and his leading theme were now in accord with the Folk-Soul. This theme was that the Union must remain double, and must continue to produce two kinds of States. Douglas had a chief part in framing the Compromise of 1850, though it went under the great name of Clay. Lincoln had ac- cepted that Compromise, and also the Whig plat- 326 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. form of 1852 which re-affirmed it. Douglas had in a way absorbed him, and still he attempted to speak against Douglas when there was really no political issue between them. But the personal issue remained between the two antitypes, and this phase of their long rivalry had its special manifestion, in which we behold Lincoln sallying forth to the combat, as it were without weapons, and gloriously defeating himself. Douglas had made a famous campaign speech at Richmond, Va., which was published in the newspapers throughout the country. Lincoln replied to it at Springfield before the Scott Club. It is agreed by Lincoln's warmest friends and biographers (Lamon and Herndon) that the speech was a fizzle, yea worse, much worse than a mere fizzle. It was worse for it showed Lincoln 's downright jealousy of his fortunate rival. He speaks of ''old times when Judge Douglas was not so much greater man than all the rest of us as he is now," and when "I used to hear and try to answer many of his speeches," for instance in the Harrison cam- paign twelve years ago. So Lincoln will try now, as this present speech of Douglas is not "marked by any greater ability" than the old ones, and has "the same species of shirks and quirks." Really, however, there is no issue of principle between the rivals. In fact Lincoln now directly indorses the speech of Douglas at Chicago in 1850 defend- ing the Compromise of that year. So what can PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION OF 1852. 327 he say? He drops down to buffoonery and to petty cavilings which open a surprising gUmpse into Lincohi's heart toward his great competitor. It can be said that this speech may be taken to mark the deepest point of descent in Lincohi's Subsidence, while Douglas at the same time reaches, if not his greatest fame, at least the most fortunate part of his career in a happy unity with his people. Perhaps some jealousy may be excusable in the intense rivalry between the two competitors. But they were not now thrown together personally, and Lincoln would have shown the nobler char- acter by an appreciation of his rival's command- ing qualities. In this regard the fact must now be duly stated : Douglas appreciated Lincoln better than Lincoln appreciated Douglas. The one in- justice of which Lincoln could be capable was in- justice toward Douglas, who, however, did not fail upon occasion to recognize the worth of Lincoln. We hope and we believe that Lincoln renounced much of his prejudice against Douglas at their last interview in the White House, when the latter vol- untarily went to his life-long antagonist after the firing on Fort Sumter, and offered his great influ- ence and his life, as it turned out, for their now common cause. But if we have now touched the lowest dip of Lincoln's sexennial Subsidence, and on the other side have gazed at the highest dazzling arc of 328 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND Douglas's fortune, both occurring somewhere about 1852, we may next watch with wonder- ment the sudden shift of their destinies two years later. Our twinned Dioscuri of the Prairie have begun to change positions; behold Lincoln start- ing to ascend and Douglas to descend. Tell us, ye Powers, what prodigious convulsion, what cosmical disturbance produced such a quick dis- placement, or rather mutual reversal in the careers of our two Giants, verily the sons of Zeus. III. The Repeal of 1854. An oft-cited statement of Lincoln runs: "I was losing interest in politics when the repeal of the Missouri Compromise roused me again." The dec- laration suggests his awakening from his long period of hibernation, the beginning of his rise from his Subsidence. In fact the Folk-Soul itself in the North sprang up from its sleep, and with it rose Lincoln as its leader. He was now one with it again and soon took his place in the front line of its coming political battle. Moreover the cause of this volcanic upheaval was his life-long rival and antitype, Douglas. Of a sudden their situations in regard to the people of Illinois and of the North-West were changed. Douglas had hitherto been the favorite of fortune, the popular darling ; Lincoln had been out of ac- THE REPEAL OF 1854. 329 cord with the Folk-Soul, and politically submerged. All at once by his own act Douglas was over- whelmed with an Oceanic wave of unpopularity, and the first man to meet him in serious contest on the soil of their common State was Lincoln, voicing the outraged Folk-Soul in its wrath at the abrogation of the time-honored Missouri Compro- mise, If Lincoln for his Congressional conduct during the Mexican AVar had sunk out of sight under the People's disapproval, Douglas had now to meet a popular maelstrom agitated from its depths by passion. Through the Missouri Compromise of 1820, slavery had been prohibited by Congress north of the latitudinal line of 36 degrees and 30 minutes. The territory then vaguely called Nebraska, was thus devoted to the making of Free States, and was ten times larger than New York. It was evi- dent that equality in number between the North- ern and Southern States was seriously threatened, and the South was chafing a good deal under the outlook. A new North was about to arise west of the Mississippi, equal in area and population to the already existent North, which was getting restive under the South's control, and had shown a decided hostility to slavery. The trend of migra- tion had always been toward these new Free- States of the North- West. The coming political problem of the Southern leaders presented itself thus: How can we wrench at least a part of this 330 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. territory from freedom to slavery? The Missouri Compromise stood in the way, and it must be somehow circumvented or eliminated. The man who undertook to remove this obstacle was a Northerner, a born New-Englander, but Senator from Illinois. Douglas prepared the bill, and it was chiefly through his energy and stra- tegic ability that it went through both Houses of Congress and became the law of the land. Every- body then asked, and the reader still asks, What was the motive of Douglas? He claimed that the Missouri Compromise had been already repealed by the Compromise of 1850 in the clause pertaining to New Mexico and Utah — which statement could hardly be verified as a fact. He said he wished to banish the slavery agitation from national politics ; but his act certainly brought about the oppo- site. Still he maintained that his object was to establish a great principle, which he called Popular Sovereignty. Really, however, his doctrine was a blow at the Union as State-producing; Congress was denied the power of training its own territorial children for Statehood; especially was it prohibited from acting on the main point whether the new States shall be free or e-lave. Thus the Popular Sovereignty of Douglas was a relapse to a kind of political chaos, and was a denial of the essential character of our government as the State-produc- ing State. So Douglas proclaimed the non-inter- ference of Congress in the very matter in which THE REPEAL OF 1S54. 331 it ought chiefly to interfere, if it be truly a Con- gress of the United-States. But the deepest underlying motive of Douglas remains to be probed. He had his heart set upon the Presidency. He could not get the nomination without the help of the South. But the Southern leaders always suspected him, as has been already indicated ; not a few actions and statements of his had been ambiguous ; they knew that he was ang- ling for their support, yet was a man of too great independence to be plastic in their hands. In 1852 he received only two votes from the South in the nominating Convention. Hence it was be- lieved at the time, and has been believed ever since that the loading motive of Douglas in the repeal of the Missouri Compromise was to win Southern support for his Presidential aspirations. As we look back at the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise through a vista of more than fifty years, we can see that it has had results far be- yond the mental range of its author, of its sup- porters, and of its enemies. Really it assailed and tore down the recognized wall of separation which had been set up between the Slave-States and the Free-States that were to be born there- after. The enactment which chiefly settled the new Nation as double, is repealed, and with it be- gins the movement toward the complete oblitera- tion of the national dualism. In about ten years' time the work is done. The Repeal of the Mis- 332 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. souri Compromise declares negatively that the Union cannot remain double — cannot, continue half slave and half free. Positively we may also read in it, glancing backward by the light of His- tory, that the Union must henceforth be Free- State producing, for the agreement which practi- cally made it bring forth a black and a white twin is cancelled. It is true that no such purpose lay directly in the mind of Douglas, though at times he seems to have faintly glimpsed such consequences lurking in his act. Nor did the people, Northern or Southern, see this deepest trend of the Repeal, nor did Lincoln at first. But its world-historical purpose all can now discern. The North nearly unanimously opposed it, poured out unmeasured obloquy upon its author, and even burned him in effigy. And yet it was the very means by which the North passed into the South and assimilated the same to its own freedom. To do this was the training of the North in the Kansas conflict. On the other hand, the South favored the bill and gave to it its chief support in Congress. The Southern statesmen did not see that they were throwing down their protecting bulwark against the already stronger North and ever growing stronger. Before the Repeal the Southerners fought behind battlements, but after it they had to come out and fight against superior numbers in the open prairie. And this was done by their THE REPEAL OF 1S54. 333 own deed, seemingly in a kind of defiance. Never did the irony of History mask itself so elusively to both sides. The North was angered at their greatest blessing, the South was rejoiced at their greatest curse. The one execrated their benefac- tor, Douglas, the other hymned praises to their destroyer, Douglas. And this Douglas seemed quite unconscious of the ultimate trend of his deed. Unwitting instruments of the World-Spirit they all now seem, bringing forth the new homo- geneous Union in the place of the old double na- tionality. Was there any man on either side who possibly felt some faint intimation of the far-off result? The old Texan hero, Sam Houston, was the only Southern Democratic Senator who voted against the Repeal in the interest of the South, declaring with a gleam of prophetic forecast: "It is the worst thing for the South that has ever transpired since the Union was formed." But he stood almost, though not quite, alone in his Section, Houston saw in the bill its undoubted negative element against slavery. And on the other hand did any Northern statesman catch the secret hand- writing of destiny in the Repeal? Several of them, according to reports which are later. Chase, hearing the boom of cannon celebrating the victory of Douglas, is recorded by his biographer as ex- claiming on the steps of the Capital when going home in the morning from the final vote: ''They 334 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. celebrate a present victory, but the echoes they awake will never rest until slavery itself shall die." So this is the beginning of the end accord- ing to Chase, who had shown himself the most de- termined and ablest Senatorial opponent of the Repeal. But if he saw in it the death of slavery, why. did he not support it, abolitionist that he was? Caught in the ironical sport of the World- Spirit which makes him do the opposite of what he is and sees, unto its end, and not his own. An exultant prophecy is also reported from the lips of Sumner: This bill ''annuls all past compromises with slavery and makes all future compromises impossible. Thus it puts freedom and slavery face to face and bids them grapple. Who can doubt the result?" Certainly not Sumner; still he touched off all his superb rhetorical fireworks against the measure, trying somehow to scare or bedazzle the World-Spirit whose working he sees and strikingly describes in the foregoing citation. He calls it "the worst bill" in its immetliate re- sults, but in the long run ''the best bill on which Congress ever acted." Why not support it then? But he speaks and votes against "the best bill" for the anti-slavery cause, thus dashing water on his own brilliant pyrotechnic display, or rather showing that it is at last a mere display of his own virtuosity. But let the reader not forget Sumner's words above quoted : they announce very impressively the coming historic fact. Seward THE REPEAL OF 1854. 335 likewise made a speech, which has a significance in the same direction. His was the keenest mind of the great oratorical trio of anti-slaveryism in the Senate, and he could not help indulging in an undertone of exultation that slavery had now started to undo itself through its own friends. Seemingly that subtle spirit of his was not averse to seeing the bill pass, especially in the way it did pass. One thinks, too, that his speech, which is not a very strong one for him, was hamstrung by his insight into the irony of the situation on both sides, at which he cannot help having a furtive chuckle, of course quite inaudible to the party which he was supporting. But later he gave him- self credit for a still deeper subtlety. What shall we say to this claim of Seward recorded by Montgomery Blair whom he told that "he was the man who put Archy Dixon, the Whig Senator from Kentucky in 1854, up to moving the Re- peal of the Missouri Compromise as an amendment to Douglas's first Kansas bill," which had no such Repeal in it, and that "he had himself forced the Repeal by that movement and had thus brought to life the Republican party." So Seward claims to have been the Zeus supreme over both sides, and to have pulled the Olympian strings which brought about their clash, to the final utter un- doing of the South. And Seward makes liimself a kind of Homer and sings a little Iliad for his own heroship or rather godship — a colossal proph- 336 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. ec}^ in retrospect, we cannot help thinking. Still there is no doubt that Seward had at the time a keener perception of the inner self-contradictory dialectic of both parties in this measure than any other statesman at Washington on either side. Really just in that subtlety lay his unique talent, to which he became at times the victim. So it befell perhaps that he could afterwards portray himself taking the place of the supereminent World-Spirit and directing the whole business with a providential design beforehand, not only to the destruction but to the self-destruction of slavery. In the movement of present biography, ac- cordingly, the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise brings about a new Epoch, causing the emergence of Lincoln from his long disciplme of political Sub- sidence. He had felt himself remanded to pri- vate life and personal obscurity. But at present he rises with the mighty upheaval of the Folk- Soul, and is soon its chosen voice, yea, its leading organizer into a new party. Now he becomes truly gigantic in fact as well as in form, having gotten a cause in which he can fully exert his new power won through his long inner discipline. The feeling of jealousy toward his rival may not be wholly extinguished, but it can be transformed into a noble indignation against that rival's wrong- ful deed. ARISE, OR BE FOREVER FALLEN. 337 IV. Arise, or Be Forever Fallen. Not the Devil was it now, calling to his lost souls that lay prostrate on the burning lake (as Milton tells us), but the good Genius of Lincoln himself it was, who, reinforced indeed by the mighty voice of the World-Spirit, thus spoke to him, bidding him wake up and arise from his long lethargic sexennium. Lethargic externally he seemed in his silent broodings, but internally very active he; yea, creative and re-creative of himself. Such we hold to be his spiritual training in the silent Netherworld through which he has now passed, getting rid of his dualism, of his political sin, analogous to that religious sin, the stages of which Dante has described as his own in his pur- gatorial journey. But, alas! Lincoln has left us no description of his spiritual itinerary through what we have called his Subsidence; hardly more do we see of him than a plunge downward, head foremost, as it were, in biting discord with himself; then the long, long stay underneath, quite out of sight internally, till his friends thought him lost as a public man But now we again see him cleaving his darkness and standing up glorified, as he starts out a new man on his new career, with that voice (we may suppose), ringing in his ears: ''Arise, or be forever fallen." He has indeed heard it, for he is ready to hear it, having had 22 338 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. his long inner probation to that end ; moreover, the time, too, is ready and* is calling for him and his like to begin the new era in the Nation. Repeatedly have we announced the fact that Lincoln, after having taken the discipline of his sunken sexennium, is to rise from his long Subsi- dence, rise with the Folk-Soul and become its leader and mouthpiece. Quite sudden was this emergence, as the occasion of it came so unex- pected. Lincoln has left a vigorous description of the fact in a speech delivered in 1854, a few months after the Repeal. Says he in reply to some complaints of Douglas: ''He should remem- ber that he took us by surprise, astounded us, by this measure. We were thunderstruck and stunned ; and we reeled and fell in utter confusion. But we rose, each fighting, grasping whatever we could first reach, a scythe, a pitchfork, a chopping axe, or butcher's cleaver. We struck in the direction of the sound, and we are rapidly closing in upon him. He must not think to divert us from our purpose by showing that our drill, our dress, and our weapons are not entirely perfect and uniform." Thus Lincoln in a striking image portrays the maddened Folk-Soul, headed by himself on the hunt after the arch repealer of the hallowed Com- promise of 1820, as soon as the latter touched the soil of Illinois. The population was chiefly agri- cultural, and hence the angry farmer seized his nearest implement, with which he was at work in ARISE, OR BE FOREVER FALLEN. 339 the fields, "a scythe, a pitchfork, a chopping axe," and made a rush at the pubhc man whom he deemed his betrayer. For that Folk-Soul, living in a Free-State, believed in the same as its own very essence, and moreover, believed that the Union should be Free-State producing. There is no doubt that Lincoln gives a truthful picture of the indignation at Douglas in his own State and throughout the North. When the Senator reaches home from Congress he hears on all sides of him a far-echoing multitudinous shout of wrath: here he comes, the recreant! up and at him "with scythe, pitchfork or chopping axe." Certainly a disor- ganized shouting mass of ire it is now, but it will soon get organized into a party, for it is acting under a common principle in the form of impulse which declares that no more Slave-States shall be made out of the territories, that this Federal Union shall hereafter produce Free-States only. In the interest of this biography we are now to follow Lincoln emerging from his eclipse and grad- ually becoming the leader of the new principle and its party. The decree of the World-Spirit we may well deem it, for it is to make itself supremely valid in the coming years. Lincoln hears this de- cree and voices it to the people, who are indeed ready, yea, are demanding it and calling for a leader. At the call we may behold stepping forth out of the shadow of his previous years and be- gimiing his new career, the form of Abraham Lin- 340 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. coin, whose first task is an herculean contest with his old antagonist, Douglas. Already before the arrival of Douglas, it seems, Lincoln had started campaigning for his friend Richard Yates who was running for Congress, and had made strong anti-Nebraska speeches, which had surprised pco})le by their earnestness. When Douglas came into the State, he had his first ex- perience with an angry constituency at Chicago, where he was hooted from the platform. That was in Northern Illinois, strongly anti-slavery and bitterly an ti- Nebraska. He soon betook himself to Springfield, his old home, where he spoke at the State fair, which had drawn a vast concourse of people. On the next day, October 4, 1854, Lincoln answered him in a speech which has not been preserved. But the two contestants now step forth into the arena, and fight their first pitched battle on the new issue, which is destined to have a great history. Significant is it that Lincoln now follows Douglas about from place to place in order to reply to him before the people. The sunken man has risen to the surface once more and is selected for the coming task, energet- ically pursuing and challenging to combat his strong adversary. On October 16th they meet again in an oratorical duel, this time at Peoria, Lincoln making a speech which he- wrote out for publication, and which must be regarded as an ARISE, OR BE FOREVER FALLEN. 341 authentic statement of his views at this time (Lincoln's Works, I., p. 180-209). Now this Peoria speech has a very important biographical interest as being the first recorded utterance of the new Lincoln after or even during his emergence. For wh(^n he made it, he was not yet fully emerged, and the Kansas-Nebraska bill had been passed by Congress only a few months before. All was yet in a seething, fermenting stage; Lincoln himself was more or less in that condition; he had yet to evolve somewhat, as well as the whole country. Still he has certain dis- tinct lines of thought which he has well elabo- rated, and is full of the history of the subject and its lesson. His main proposition is that the Missouri Com- promise ought to be restored. For the sake of the Union it ought to be restored. We ought to elect a House of Representatives which will vote for its restoration. Very little prospect of such a retrac- tion there was, since the Senate could not be changed for years. The chief reason for the re- peal of this repeal was that otherwise "we shall have repudiated — discarded from the councils of the Nation — the spirit of compromise; for who after this, will ever trust in a national compromise? That spirit of mutual concession — that spirit which first gave us the Constitution, and has thrice saved the Union — we shall have cast from us forever." Lincoln does not apparently see that the day of com- 342 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. promises with slavery is past, ended by the act of slavery itself, and that the direct struggle between the two sides is at hand. Lincoln has not yet quite reached the insight that this Nation cannot exist half-slave half-free, but he will soon reach it and say it. The abolition of that Missouri Com- promise means to the qjg of the World-spirit, the abolition of slavery, but hardly yet to the eye of Lincoln. He is still too much enmeshed in the old order of statesmanship headed by Webster and Clay, good for its time no doubt, but now transcended forever. No more compromises, cries the South and therein starts undoing itself, which is just at present the supreme decree. Idyllic Lin- coln repeats prayerfully in this speech: "Restore the Compromise and vvhat then? We thereby re- store the national faith, the national confidence, the national feeling of brotherhood." Alack-a-day ! no such paradisaical happiness is ever again possible to this Nation till the deep-seated source itself of all Compromise be reached and cleaned out for- ever. And of that painful cleansing Lincoln is destined to be the leader. So our speech-maker at Peoria on that October day proposes still to keep the dual Union, cause of never-ending inner conflict and turmoil, to keep it by compromise, as it has so long been kept. As well might the children of Adam seek to. return to Eden, from which they have been ex- pelled. Lincoln shows his hatred of slavery in ARISE, OR BE FOREVER FALLEN. 343 this speech, and pricks many a sophistical bubble cleverly blown by Douglas for vindicating himself before the people. Evidence of historic study, as well as a deep moral earnestness one finds in the well-considered argument, which has also keen logical thrusts along with bright metaphorical sallies. But there is a total absence of story-tell- ing, of grotesque humor, of the funning and fab- ling, which were so prominent once and will be again. What has thus sobered him? We can only conjecture that his inner wrestle has been so in- tense that it has for a time overlaid that strain of his character. Still in the tone of the speech there is heralded a young hope, which elevates and illumines its seriousness. Upon Lincoln has dawned a bright auroral promise of a new career at the age of forty-five years, in the very flowering of his highest talent. And a cause has been given him into whose advocacy he can pour forth the deepest conviction both of his moral and institutional nature. And let it not be forgotten! that adver- sary and antitype of his, so long triumphant over him, he can now clutch with the grip of Ophiu- chus and hale the violator of what he deems the right before the judgment-seat of the Folk-Soul, yea of the Ages. 344 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. V. Lincoln and Douglas (4). Lincoln, as we have shown, has gone back to the Folk-Soul of his State, and indeed of his Section, for a fresh dip in the original protoplasm of the People, out of which the Great Man of the time is to be formed, or perchance to be re-formed, if he have suffered some obscuration, or some estrange- ment from this fountain-head of his institutional being. There Lincoln slowly gets a new adjust- ment, traveling the circuit as a lawyer and mingling with his legal associates as well as with the plain folk, with whom again he comes into harmony. Upon him and them a fresh conviction is dawning with the movement of the time, verily the impress of the Age's purpose, the stamp of the World- Spirit taking an advanced stride toward its histor- ical goal. So we conceive Lincoln performing his fameless service to the presiding Powers over his and his Nation's destiny. Meanwhile his rival and counterpart Douglas is swimming triumphant on the topmost wave of fame and political influence. At the same time we must note the drawback : there at Washington he is losing touch with the Folk-Soul of his State and Section — losing that which Lincoln is gaining. This is the undercurrent or rather countercurrent in the mighty onflowing stream of Douglas's pop- ularity, certain to rise to the surface with the LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (4) 345 years. The atmosphere of the Capital was very different from that of the North-West; the poht- ical influence of the South dominated at Washing- ton and also the social, both of which deeply transformed the ambitious and susceptible Sen- ator. His marriage with a Southern lady of wealth and position had a tendency to make him more formal and even aristocratic. Then there was the spatial separation between him and his constituency, to which he returned again and again to give an account of himself, but which showed a dissonance always increasing. We be- lieve that the reason why Douglas lost hold of his People lay chiefly in the legislative body of which he was a member, indeed the most prominent and forceful member. The Senate is farther removed from the throbbings and aspirations of the Folk- Soul than any other branch of the Government. Indeed its organization is the antithesis of a pop- ular institution, and its spirit has often shown itself not only indifferent but antagonistic to the People. As a body essentially aristocratic, it was the great entrenched fortress of the South, and re- mained quite inexpugnable by the rising con- science of the North till the Southern Senators ran off and left it in 1861. Now of this govern- mental body Douglas became more and more the ruling mind and the real incarnation, though of course with strong and jealous opposition from both North and South. But taking him all in all, 346 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. he was the greatest Senator the country ever pro- duced, greater than Webster though not so impos- ing in stature or so classic in speech, greater than Clay or Calhoun, and since his time we have not looked upon his like again in the Senate. Still on the other hand just here lay his limit, and his very excellence became his bane; his supreme Sen- atorial fitness unfitted him for the Presidency, and his chief legislative deed undid him for chief Ex- ecutive. Lincoln wanted to be Senator, but the Powers forbade him decidedly, forbade him twice, no doubt in the interest of himself and his Nation. The Senate might have ruined him, producing a second and deeper alienation from the Folk-Soul than did the House of Representatives, which laid him on the shelf for so many years. The great Presidents have on the whole come directly from the People, not through the Senate or Judiciary, which are so different in function from the Pres- idency. The Senate through its constitution is quite inclined to streaks of domination, if not of usurpation, to arbitrary and irresponsible conduct, to jealousy of the other governmental powers, and to defiance of public opinion. Corresponding to these drawbacks undoubtedly are found important virtues. Long tenure of office, the small and se- lect number participating in the honor, and espe- cially an election removed from the People have the effect of separating the Senator from the Folk- Soul. It was, therefore, not at all the place for LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (4). 347 Lincoln, whose supreme function was both to feel and to sway the popular heart directly in the ap- proaching crisis of the Nation. Douglas, there- fore, through his long Washington experience had gradually lost his intimate connection with his People, and had violated their deepest political instinct, which was to have a Nation productive of Free-States only. On the other hand Lincoln is completely harmonious with that instinct, now that the disagreement caused by the Mexican War is a thing of the past. On two memorable occasions Douglas returned, for the purpose of giving an account of his stew- ardship, to his angry constituency. The first was when he defended his work in the Compromise of 1850. The Common Council of Chicago had passed a string of violent resolutions, one of which practically declared for the nullification of the Fugitive Slave Law, and even of the Constitution, chiefly on the ground that "the laws of God should be held paramount to all human compacts and statutes." The whole affair was preposter- ous, indeed a downright comedy, whose theme was in substance, "The Common Council of Chi- cago as the expositor and defender of the Laws of God." The very statement ought to have pro- duced a horse-laugh even in that furious multi- tude, and sent them all home in a fit of merri- ment. Douglas met them, answered their ques- tions, cowed them with his leonine aggressiveness, 348 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. and actually drove them to adopt a set of resolu- tions offered by himself and friendly to the Com- promise, "without a dissenting voice." And the Common Council the next evening "by a vote of 12 to 1" repealed its act of nullification in favor of "the Laws of God," evidently quitting theology for the more congenial field of ward politics. It was an easy, but great and overwhelming victory for Douglas. And there is no doubt that he voiced the feeling of the people in regard to the Compromise of 1850, much as they disHked the Fugitive Slave Law. Moreover, they had no real leader; Lincoln was in his Subsidence down at Springfield, and he would have agreed with Douglas in the main points, though with very different sympathies. That Chicago crowd was a foolish, disorganized, headless mass, which nullified itself completely in the hands of Douglas. Still there was something in it of which he might well take heed. That Law of God, or Law of Con- science, in its conflict with the Constitution was striking deep roots in the Folk-Soul, as he might infer, even from the comic interlude of the City Council. In fact, he was led into a kind of theo- logical disquisition himself by the following ques- tion: "A gentleman here rose and inquired of Mr. Douglas whether the clause in the Constitution providing for the surrender of fugitive slaves was not in violation of the law of God?" Douglas, re- plying shiftily, plunges into a metaphysical disser- LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS U). 349 tation on divine and human law, which that crowd certainly did not understand, and he probably did not understand it himself. For he, seemingly without knowing it, gives away his whole position. He declares ''that there is a law paramount to all human enactments," and that this law, "the law of God, is intended to operate on our consciences, and to insure the performance of our duties as individuals and Christians." Seward with his Higher Law, never did and never could ask for more. Douglas goes on to state "that the divine Law does not prescribe the form of government under wliich we live," and so forth — all of which does not help out, but tends "to ink the waters like a cuttle-fish." But let us drop this matter here with the observation that Douglas, so bril- liantly successful in nullifying the nullification of the Chicago Common Council, is not at home in discussing or even in understanding the grand conflict between Conscience and the Constitution, which is rising with such might in the Northern Folk-Soul, and of which this Chicago mob was a real, but a wild, ugly, grotesque manifestation. The deep moral questioning of the time lay out- side of his horizon. Through his unparalleled, and we think, deserved success upon this occasion, Douglas would beheve that he could meet and quell any uprising of the people against him. This brings us to his second memorable return to Chicago after his repeal of 350 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND the Missouri Compromise in 1854. Again a mob larger, angrier, and more implacable than the one of 1850, received him and would not let him speak, though he tried four hours (Sheahan says, from 8 P. M. to 12). Flags were at half-mast, church bells tolled, hisses and groans were his welcome. He gave up and left the city, hurrying off to Democratic Egypt for consolation. Certainly this was a great contrast to his former victory over the Chicago mob, which now seemed of a different mettle. The Common Council did not this time make themselves the champions of "the Laws of God," but their place was taken by a very differ- ent set of men, the preachers, largely of New Eng- land origin, who turned the city and the whole North- West blue and sulphurous with the Hell- fire of their damnation of Douglas. And literal fire was used to burn him in hundreds of effigies, by whose light he once said himself that he could travel all the way from Illinois to the Atlantic. But the present deep estrangement of his people Douglas never fuUy overcame, even if afterwards, through his attitude toward the Lecompton fraud, he rose anew in the popular estimation. Perhaps all this opposition to Douglas would in time have bubbled off and have become quies- cent. But now steps forth out of his obscurity a leader of men, in deep sympathy with this new indignation of the outraged Folk-Soul. Abraham Lincoln starts to organizing these sudden elemental LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS (4). 351 forces into a permanent political party, and to give voice to the people's antagonism against Douglas, who has long been his personal antagonist and antitype. But Lincoln is very careful to shun the pitfalls of the former opponents of his wily foe. He draws the lines of his new organization with surpassing skill. He shuns the doctrine of the Higher Law with its hostility to Enacted Law and Constitution. He grants that slavery cannot be touched where it is by the central government, and that the South has a right to a Fugitive Slave Law, much as he dislikes it personally. In gen- eral, he makes his party completely institutional, and thus draws to it and harmonizes with it the Folk-Soul, which clings most fervently to its insti- tutions. At the same time he builds a channel through which the moral protest against slavery can find a vent, and can finally realize itself even in the Constitution. Well may Douglas have said in these days that Lincoln gave him more trouble than the whole Senate of the United States with all its great anti- slavery orators, including Chase, Sumner, Seward, every one of whom was inclined to let their moral indignation violate the institutional sense. Then Douglas has not now before him the aristocratic Senate, to whose character he had by long practice completely assimilated himself, but he must address the People of the North- West and meet in their presence Lincoln, the greatest champion they ever 352 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND had, who by long practice had assimilated himself to them and had become their very voice. Doug- las, therefore, in his turn, has to pass through a time of estrangement from the Folk-Soul, though it will be quite different from that out of which Lincoln is just emerging. He will suffer no drop into the unseen depths below, like a geologic fault in the earth whose surface sometimes breaks and sinks many fathoms down out of sight. No long penitential subsidence will he wander thi'ough in the night of his soul, the pugnacious Little Giant; rather will he thrust himself, into the public eye more than ever , valiantly fighting a losing battle during his sexennial combat (1854-60), with a tough heroic endurance. But he at last will end (as we shall see) in peace and reconciliation, even with his mortal antitype. Lincoln knows well his own personal feeling toward Douglas, that unworthy strain of jealousy in his heart; he knows too that it must now be kept under, or at least be used to tip with the fire of its passion the arrows of justice that they burn to their mark. Every great deed done by man has its individual side, which is his interest or his passion; but this must be subordinated to the universal end, and thus become ennobled through bringing about something far higher and worthier than itself. Some such transformation we may now observe in Lincoln. LINCOLN'S EMERGENCE. 353 VI. Lincoln's Enaer^rence. Already it has been observed that Lincoln in his Peoria speech (October, 1854), had not yet fully evolved. He did not yet fully see the bearing of the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise upon the Nation or upon his own career. But when perchance about a year later he is seen "half sit- ting up in liis bed," seemingly after a night's struggle, and is heard declaring, "this Nation can- not exist half slave and half free," he has tran- scended the hmitations of his Peoria speech, and his emergence may be deemed complete. The Re- peal of the Missouri Compromise need not now be repealed; indeed it must stand as a great step toward the goal beginning to hover distantly in Lincoln's outlook. He finds lurking in that Re- peal a foreshadowing of the obliteration of the institutional difference between North and South. It starts to wiping out Mason and Dixon's line both literally and spiritually. It commences the rapid stride toward Appomattox. Truly Lincoln has now heard and begun to utter the decree of the World-Spirit. To be sure, in some of his later speeches he still seems to favor the abrogation of the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise, using it chiefly to tilt against Douglas, whose act he with his party op- poses. The full bearing of that Repeal indeed 23 354 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. nobody appears to have yet fathomed. We have seen great Senators opposing it, while declaring it to be the best thing that ever happened against slaveiy . Lincoln also is at first caught in that subtle irony of the World-Spirit, which is compelling the hottest supporters of slavery to destroy it, and the ablest opponents of slavery to fight for it, of course unconsciously. But Lincoln will soon come to see that the Repeal of the Missouri Compro- mise was, in its deepest though unintended scope, the mightiest stride ever yet made toward the de- struction of slavery. Through it alone could he ever have been led to say that this Nation must become all one thing or all the other, the wall of separation being now broken down. Hence he grows less insistent upon repealing the Repeal, that is, up(>n setting up the dividing wall again. Indeed after the Dred Scott decision that wall could not well be replaced by any Congressional action or compromise. It may be here added that even Douglas, after three years or so, recog- nizes the anti-slavery trend in his Repeal, and se- cretly takes credit for it with certain Republicans. But let us again cast a look upon Lincoln emerg- ing from that long, dark, silent Subsidence, a sort of unsung purgatorial journey through which he has now passed. Let us recur once more to that significant picture of him sitting up in his bed and voicing his soul's sleepless wrestle. The image re- LINCOLN'S EMERGENCE. 355 calls the four greatest lines, in our judgment, of modern poetry: Wer nie sein Brod mit Thranen ass, Wer nie die kiimmervoUen Nachte, Auf seinem Bette weinend sass, Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen Maclite. So says Goethe, poetizing how the human be- ing comes to the knowledge of the Supernal Pow- ers. Lincoln may not have shed tears like the more sentimental German, but the conflict which brings liim to a vision of the Divine Order is the same. He is rising out of that sunless Subsidence into the illumination of the coming sun-up, and he hears the behest of the God of Light, and gives to it an utterance. Such, then, may be deemed Lincoln's emer- gence, and its first pregnant expression. He is passing out of that unspoken discipline of six years, during which he has been undergoing an inner transformation, as well as winning back the Folk-Soul, whose estrangement from him has been already recorded. Of a sudden the two come to- gether and unite in a kind of lightning flash, though both had been slowly unfolding toward this new reconciliation, not to be dissolved again at death, but rather to grow through and after death. The two souls, that of the Folk and that of Lincoln, are now joined in an immortal love, the depth and intensity of which even increase as the years keep receding from his mortal presence. 356 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. And another peculiar conjunction may be wit- nessed: Lincoln and Douglas again whirl to- gether, but far more mightily in their antithetic careers; not since they had their first early tourna- ment at Springfield have they met in a direct per- sonal contest. During thirteen years and more, each has moved in his own separate orbit. Still they are counterparts, and form the two living sides of one total movement. They belong to- gether, one cannot truly be without the other, and History cannot do without cither. So behold them once more revolving about each other with an ever-increasing velocity, yet moving toward their common goal. This makes a new epoch in the life of Lincoln, and also in that of Douglas; the Lincoln-Douglas sexennium it is now, in which the long rivalry of the two protagonists has to be definitely settled ; both appeal to their com- mon State, and then to their common Nation, which makes the choice between the Dioscuri of the Prairie, and thus closes the contest. CHAPTER THIRD. ^be IRational Cboice, So another epoch of some six years has arisen (1855-1861) which presents the alternative to the Folk-Soul, Lincoln or Douglas? Hitherto we have seen the twain repeatedly conjoined in this biography under the rubric "Lincoln and Douglas," each on the whole pursuing his own way, yet continually interrelated in a • kind of antithetic movement. In the first epoch (1842-9) of the present Period we have watched Lincoln losing touch with the Folk-Soul of the State and Section, and then being plunged into a time of obscura- tion, during which he has slowly been restoring the lost tie (1849-55) . Quite the reverse has been the career of Douglas in these two epochs : the first shows him in harmony with the Folk-Soul and riding by means of its favor buoyantly to his high- est position in the Senate of the United States; but in the second epoch he can be observed moving gradually toward his great breach with the Folk- Soul of his State and Section, through his repeal of the Missouri Compromise. Thus the two antitypal characters of the time show two antithetic move- ments which we may imagine to curve around opposed to each other in this way : while Lincoln is going down, Douglas is mounting up, and then (357) 358 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. when Lincoln rises again, Douglas is sinking. Still Douglas, on account of his lengthy Senatorial tenure, is not remanded to the Folk-Soul, there to do long penance in obscurity, till he becomes transformed, as was the case with Lincoln. Doug- las still can fight from his vantage-place in the Senate, shaking his lion's mane with a grandiose pugnacity, even against the irate People. But the time will come when he has to appear before its judgment-seat, there to face Lincoln as accuser. Douglas did the greatest favor to Lincoln that the latter ever received, though there was no such intention and the act was unconscious. The re- peal of the Missouri Compromise brought to the front the question whether the Union shall hence- forth produce Slave-States or Free-States. This gave to Lincoln his true theme, and opened to him the opportunity of becoming the Great Man of his age. Already his persistent voting for the Wilmot Proviso indicates his conviction that the Nation must pi'oduce Free-States only ; but through the repeal of the Missouri Compromise he is driven to the conclusion that the Nation cannot continue half slave and half free. We conceive Lincoln standing behind that dividing wall quite paralyzed through his acceptance of it as final, and indeed insurmountable, till Douglas breaches it and act- ually throws it down, aided enthusiastically by the South. Then Lincoln rushes in, followed by the North at first reluctantly, and sweeps onward CHAPTER THIRD— THE NATIONAL CHOICE 359 till he enfranchises not only the territories, but all the Slave-States new and old. The first direct breach leading to this event was made by Doug- las, and made by him unwittingly, for Lincoln, who could not have done it himself. Through this same breach Douglas designed to march to the Presidency, but through it without design Lincoln was the man who marched to the Presi- dency instead of Douglas. In fact the deepest work of Douglas in this part of his career is that of a divider of his own people. He breaches the Democratic Convention of 1852, causing such a violent rupfure between the old and new set of leaders that the dark horse called Franklin Pierce, has to be brought out. Then the repeal of the Missouri Compromise has certainly breached the masses of his party. Then he breaches his own Democratic Administration under Buchanan in the Kansas trouble. We shall see that he will almost succeed in breaching his Republican opponents, but he will be thwarted in that act by Lincoln. Nor is this the end of his breaching. He becomes a separator, a duahzer, after being at first a compromiser, supporting strongly the Compromises of 1820 and of 1850. Thus he turns a destroyer of his own party, doubt- less unintentionally. He undoes it, seeking its headship, and prepares the way for Lincoln, who ought to thank him, but does not, for he too can- not fully comprehend the plan of the World-Spirit 360 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. ill using Douglas to breach his own part}^ A deeply negative strain runs through his career during the present epoch of it, manifesting its highest point in the negation of the Missouri Com- promise. He practically wipes out the agreed line of separation between North and South, and then brings that separation into the Democracy, which topples it down from its supremacy. Note again the contrast: while Lincoln is unifying himself out of his dualism, Douglas is dualizing himself out of his former oneness. In general it may be said that the World-Spirit now employs Douglas as a mighty demonic energy of destruction inside his own political organization, which is thus made self-undoing. Meanwhile we can see Lincoln going the other way, working to bring forth a new positive order out of the break-up and wreckage of parties. In this sexennial epoch we are to behold the dualizer Douglas and the unionizer Lincoln as counterparts in the one great move- ment of the time, the negation of Douglas being the condition of the affirmation of Lincoln. The dual Nation, so strongly insisted upon by the Little Giant is to be made over into the one Na- tion by the Big Giant. Still it must not be for- gotten that Douglas, amid all his breaches and dualisms, did in the deepest of him cling to the Federal Union as the ark of salvation; therein far down at the bottom of their political being he and Lincoln were one, and rested on the same ultimate CHAPTER THIRD— THE NATIONAL CHOICE. 361 foundation. Will anything in the future ever bring that deepest common conviction, that one- ness of the now antagonistic, yea antitypal twain, to the surface, where it can be seen and even pro- claimed? Yes, w^e may here foresay, taking a look in advance; on that Sunday at Washington, when news of the firing upon Sumter arrives, Douglas will proceed to the White House and en'ist under Lincoln, then commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States — seemingly the first en- listed man of the war. That is indeed the end of their long rivalry ; they have reached down to the institutional unity which was common to both from the beginning, and which underlay their deepest political differences. The point in which they came together from op- posite poles was the love of the Union. Their po- larity showed itself in their diverse policies for keeping the Union intact. Its dualism, its half- and-halfncss must come to an end, says Lincoln; that is what must endure to the last, says Doug- las, who, however, never went so far as to favor Calhoun's dyarchy, or scheme of two Presidents, Northern and Southern, with a power of mutual veto. Both, so antipathetic otherwise, loved the Union; this must remaiu, though Lincoln wanted it homogeneous as to freedom, but Douglas heter- ogeneous. Upon this difference is their struggle, till they both are brought to face the deeper con- flict, that against the Union itself. 362 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Thus we enter upon a third sexennium, not pressing too rigidly its hmits in time. From Lin- cobi emergent to Lincoln as President lies an epoch of his life lasting six years about, and hav- ing its own central fact or unity. This unity lies in the continued contest of Lincoln against Douglas as the originator, defender, and promulga- tor, first of the repeal of the Missouri Compromise and then of its correlative doctrine. Popular Sov- ereignty. The combat started really when Lin- coln first grappled his antagonist at the Spring- field Fair, October 4th, 1854, and ended with his election to the Presidencj^ over Douglas mainly, and his inauguration at Washington March 4th, 1861, at which Douglas was present and courteously held his hat — a very striking, and we think, sig- nificant act, turning gently the long and bitter contest into a kind of reconciliation, probably more on the part of Douglas than of Lincoln. The present is indeed the final desperate strug- gle between the two political combatants, which always had its personal substrate springing from two opposite characters and two radically differ- ent w^orld-views. Hence, we call them antitypes, whose individual collision was at first local and confined to their State, but rose gradually to be- ing national, and finally w^orld-historical. We have already noted far back in the legislature of Illinois their original diversity, as well as the start- ing-point of their double career. Neither probably CHAPTER THIRD— THE NATIONAL CHOICE. 363 ever lost sight of the other; each forefelt in the other the lurking demon of his own negation. So, like double suns, they circled about each other mutually repellent, yet inseparable and moving in a common political orbit. At first Douglas was the great luminary and shone with a dazzling ra- diance, while Lincoln passed spiritually into an Qclipse, out of which he finally rose, surpassing, if not absorbing, his rival. We have seen Lincoln following Douglas from place to place when the latter had returned home from Washington in 1854, just after his great deed of erasing the Missouri Compromise line. Suddenly Lincoln quits the quest and goes back to his law-office at Sj^ringfield. What is the mat- ter? It is reported that after the Peoria encoun- ter Douglas hunted him up and said to him flat- teringly: "You are giving me more trouble in de- bate than all the United States Senate; let us both stop and go home." Lincoln agreed, being through his feelings somewhat gullible; report says that Douglas broke the agreement and spoke afterw^ards at Princeton, Ills., being harried there by the taunts of Owen Lovejoy. In consequence of this violation of promise Lincoln felt himself overreached, and lowered his opinion of Douglas, previously not very high. In this connection Hei'ndon cites a humorous but searching judgment of Lincoln about his own weakness: ''It's a fortu- nate thing I wasn't born a woman, for I cannot 364 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. refuse anything, it seems." The power to say no was not strongly developed in him, when he was touched through his emotions; still we shall see that he had an iron Will, when the emergency called it out. Otherwise Feeling would often sur- prise him and make him too yielding on what seemed to him lesser matters. In 1854 Lincoln was elected to the State Legis- lature from old Sangamon, as he had been twenty years before from New Salem. In that early legislative experience of his, he had first met Douglas, and it is probable that even then they eyed each other in a kind of forefeeling of their life's rivalry. Mighty and angry was the rise of the Folk-Soul against its favorite Douglas, and Lincoln was its foremost champion. He re- signed his position in the local Legislature that he might be a candidate for the National Senator- ship. The brilliant prize of his highest ambition floated alluringly before him. Illinois had chosen in 1854 an anti-Nebraska Legislature, which was to elect a Senator in place of Shields, Lincoln's old fellow-duelist and a follower of Douglas. The po- sition naturally belonged to Lincoln as the chief leader of the new movement, and as the ablest an- tagonist of the Little Giant. Thus their contest would become national, being transferred to the Senate of the United States. But Lincoln did not win, though he had a much larger vote in the legislature than any other anti-Nebraska candi- CHAPTER THIRD— THE NATIONAL CHOICE. 365 date. There were some members of the Demo- cratic antecedents who would not support him, an old Whig, so that he had in the end to throw his influence to Trumbull, who was chosen. Four years later he will meet with the same failure. The spirit presiding over his destiny will keep him out of the Senate, and with good reason. Lincoln has another task than the legislative, and must be held to his training. The Senate is a formal, aristocratic body; Lincoln, on the contrary, was informal and democratic. Of all the branches of our government, the Senate is farthest removed from the people, and is the least responsive to the popular heart. The aristocratic South was long intrenched in the Senate as its stronghold, and proposed to hold it through new Slave States. The struggle in Kansas went back to a struggle for the possession of the Senate. Douglas had lost touch with the people of his State and the North through his long Senatorial career, Lincoln is, accordingly, remanded by his good Genius, to be sure against his will, to the people, from whom he is not to separate. If he had gone to the Senate in 1855, he would probably never have been President. On the whole the instinct of the Nation has been to keep its greatest Senators out of the Presidency, notably Clay and Webster, also Benton and Calhoun, and we may add Douglas and Seward and Blaine. No, the Senate was not the place for Lincoln, and we believe that he felt 366 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. something of the kind after the contest was over. He was to stay back and live with the Folk-Soul till it was ready to bear him aloft directly to the highest position in the land, that he be its leader in its supreme crisis. The fact is, the Senate and the Presidency have shown themselves more anti- pathetic to each other than any of the rest of the Constitutional offices. What Lincoln had really to do next is seen m what he set about doing after his defeat for the Senate. Many discordant and otherwise hostile elements had been suddenly dashed together in opposition to the repeal of the Missouri Compro- mise. Moreover they had won their first battle, after which they began to show signs of going asunder. Lincoln's immediate task was to keep them together by organizing them into a new po- litical party based on their common principle, and to put himself at the head of it as mouthpiece and leader. The newspapers must first be secured and united ; a convention of the anti-Nebraska editors of the State was called at Decatur, in whose work Lincoln is known to have had a hand. On the same day, February 22nd, 1856, a national con- vention with a similar purpose was held at Pitts- burg, which set in motion the Republican party in the Nation. The Decatur meeting called a convention to be held at Bloomington May 29th, for the purpose of nominating a State ticket and sending a delcga- CHAPTER THIRD— THE NATIONAL CHOICE. 367 tion to the first Republican National Convention at Philadelphia, June 17th. The dissident ele- ments of the young party were still imperfectly welded together; the old divisions of Whig, Dem- ocrat, Free-Soil still seamed through the Conven- tion and antagonized its members. They had not forgotten their ancient history. Who is the man that can fuse them into harmony and unity here and now? There was a call for Lincoln, a spontaneous shout for the leader. He came for- ward and made a speech whose effect was long re- membered, for it smelted all the refractory ingredi- ents of that Convention and rendered a united Repubhcan party possible in Illinois. Moreover it placed him at the head of the new organization of his State, and on the line of march toward the Presidency. It has been known as the lost speech of Lincoln, as it was not reported in the news- papers. Accordingly we now start upon the third sexennial epoch of Lincoln in this Second Period of some eighteen to nineteen years — say from 1842 till 18G1 — during which his supreme personal task is to make himself national. The whole time we see him in training to be the leader and also the teacher of the Folk-Soul in its long onerous world- historical duty of bringing the dual Union to one- ness, through freedom. He is the chosen man, chosen first by himself and then by the World- Spirit, to lead the Nation out of its old, ever-men- 368 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. acing half-and-halfness into a true unity with itself. So we mark three sexenniums in the pres- ent Period of Lincoln's biography, each of which has its own distinct movement of his spirit. First he nationalizes himself immediately, passing from Springfield to Washington ; but thereby he is plunged into the national dualism, out of which he has to unfold through a long submergence ; finally he nationalizes himself again, but now unified out of dualism, and proclaiming the unity of Nation as Free-State producing only. Truly the Great Man must unify himself before he can unify his People. In this last sexennial epoch Lincoln will have Douglas as his ever-present competitor who repre- sents the Double Nation in the North, which is called to choose between the two contestants and their principles. Even Lincoln proposes to keep the old Nation double, but not the new-born chil- dren of it, the incoming States. But the outcome is that both parties of the North and both North- ern leaders, Lincoln and Douglas, are unified in the presence of the deeper dualism, called Disunion, which ominously rises to the surface in the South. With this practical evanishment of the Northern dualism, the hotly contested Lincoln-Douglas sex- ennium closes, but at the same time opens upon the greater national conflict. Now for the record of the final grapple between the two mighty anti- types, certainly the greatest characters of the po- litical sort in the Nation. KANSAS. 369 I. Kansas. It happened during this time that the repeal of the Missouri Compromise did not merely excite a theoretical discussion about slavery, but it intro- duced at once an intense, ever-irritating practical problem. The Kansas territory being opened for settlement, immigrants from the North began to pour in with the design of making it a Free-State. On the other hand armed bands came across from the Missouri border for the purpose of seizing the election machinery and through it forcing Kansas into slavery by fraud and violence. A collision between the two sides seemed certain already in 1854, and the prelude of the coming Civil War began to be heard in Kansas. We may note that Lincoln in his Peoria speech gave a striking de- scription of the colliding elements already on the ground at work, and then added a deep-toned proj)hetic forecast of the conflict which was certain to arise out of it and to involve the whole country : "And really what is to be the result of this? Each pai'ty within having numerous and deter- mined backers without, is it not j^robable that the contest will come to blows and bloodshed? Could there be a more a])t invention to bring about col- lision and violence on the slavery question than this Nebraska project is? I do not charge or be- lieve that such was intended by Congress ; but if 24 370 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. they had literally formed a ring and placed cham- pions within it to fight out tlie controversy, the fight could not be more likely to come off than it is, and if this fight should begin, is it likely to take a very peaceful, Union-saving turn? Will not the first drop of blood so shed be the real knell of the Union?" It must be recollected that this speech was de- livered in October, 1854, barely four months after the opening of the territory for settlement by the proclamation of President Pierce. Already Kan- sas had become the arena of contest and the champions had entered the lists. Next month the Missourians will cross the border and elect Whit- field delegate to Congress (November, 1854) , with- out opposition however. But the following spring (March, 1855), the first invasion of Kansas takes place from Missouri, for the purpose of choosing a legislature. At this point resistance begins, and the war opens, destined to spread from Kansas over the whole land, and to last ten years. Very suggestive is it to note this early foreboding of Lincoln who seems to hear in the distance ''the knell of the Union," but who is destined to be the supreme leader and supereminent figure in the preservation of the Union. As already stated Lincoln proceeds to organize the seething chaotic opposition of the Folk-Soul to Douglas and his Nebraska policy and to solidify it into a permanent party. Kansas helps him, or KANSAS. 371 rather the Missourians who, by renewed invasions, keep the North in a continual whirl of agitation and wrath. The excitement is not permitted by the South to die out till the RepuJDlican party be formed with its one basic principle: no more sla- very in the territories. All of them must be free, not alone Kansas, which, however, is the immediate present goal. Of course this means that now a great organization has arisen which declares that the Union must hereafter produce Free-States only. Thus the issue has become open, palpable, direct, and is to be fought to a finish. Such was in general the purpose and the theme of Lincoln's "Lost Speech" (at Bloomington_. May 29th, 1856), which had such a hypnotic power upon even the hardened reporters, that they forgot their vocation and could not move a finger to write a sentence. Still a few fragments of this most fa- mous and seemingly most impassioned political speech that Lincoln ever made, has been dug up in recent years (see Miss Tarbell's Life of Lincoln, II., p. 306). The upper note appears to have been: Kansas must he free. Still this is not to be done by violence but peaceably, by ballot and not by bullet. The restoration of the Missouri Com- promise is still mentioned by Lincoln, but it rather falls into the background in view of the more pressing question, the freedom of Kansas. He however, feels that sooner or later we may have to meet force by force, "but the time has not yet 372 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. come" in the present year 1856. Strangely pre- monitory is this gleam of what he will be called to do in 18G1 ! Moreover in attaining these re- sults we must be loyal to the Constitution and the Union. Lincoln is not a revolutionist, but a thor- oughly institutional man. Indeed he has a pre- sentiment that he with his new party may be forced to maintain the Union against the Southern Dis- unionists who already are threatening its dissolu- tion in case of the election of a Republican Presi- dent. This brings him to what must be deemed the climax of- his speech, which was seared upon the memory of those present : "We will say to the Southern disunionists: We won't go out of the Union and you shan't." Thus Lincoln makes himself the voice of the Northern Folk-Soul, and prefigures in his words the act of 1861 some five years before the fulfil- ment. What he here declares, is to be accom- plished in the deed ; he voices to the people in the dialect of the people the decree of the World- Spirit . We the North wont't go out of the Union and you (the South) shan't. It is the grand pro- hibition uttered years beforehand which has to be enforced by arms. The effect of the words seemed to work upon the hearers like an inspiration from supernal sources. Lincoln prophesies what is to be, and unconsciously places himself as the exec- utor of the supreme behest: You shan't. Many sporadic attempts had been made to form KANSAS. 373 a new party in opposition to the pro-slavery ten- dencies of the Democracy. There has been no Ht- tlc disputation about the place where the Republi- can party started, and about the man who was its true founder. Numerous centers of crystallization may be pointed out during this anti-Nebraska pe- riod in most of the Northern States. Victories had been won and Illinois had sent an anti-Ne- braska Senator to Washington, Trumbull. Still the forces opposed to the compact, well-drilled Democracy were an irregular militia, full of fight but without much unity or discipline. Now, this Convention at Bloomington (May 29th, 185G), was the most important act of co-alescence in the history of the Republican party, and this was mainly the work of Lincoln. His speech fused the recalcitrant self-repellent atoms and laid down the lines upon which there could be an united ac- tion in the future. He centered the opposition to the one supreme point of keeping slavery- out of the Territories. At the same time this opposition must be in accord with Law and Constitution. Only thus could it win the support of the anti- slavery men of Southern birth, of whom Central and Southern Illinois were full, Lincoln himself being one of them and their greatest representa- tive. On this last point a significant citation from Lincoln's ''Lost Speech" (as reported by Whitney) may be given. After stating the fact that free- 374 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. dom was preserved to Illinois in 1824 through the strenuous efforts of Governor Coles, who was "a native of Maryland and President Madison's pri- vate secretary," Lincoln speaks of his own South- ern associates: ''Palmer, Yates, Williams, Brown- ing and some more in the Convention came from Kentucky to Illinois (instead of going to Mis- souri), not only to better their conditions, but to get away from slavery. They have said so to me, and it is understood among us Kentuckians that we do not like it one bit." Here we catch a glimpse of the underlying motive of that great migration from the Slave-States to the North- West, which had been going on so many years, and of which Lincoln himself was an example. And the further reflection presses to the front that the Republican party, with its hostility to slavery so carefully laid down on institutional lines, was largely the work of Southerners, who had migrated to the Free-States of the North-West. Of course there was anti-slavery ism, strong, yea, rabid in the old States of the North-East, but it had not the same tendency to show an unfailing regard for Union and Constitution, and could, never have gained the battle for freedom. The transition from the Anti- Nebraska up- heaval, based mainly upon a negative, as we see in ity name, to the Republican party, based upon an affii'mative, as w^e see in its chief doctrine of ter- ritorial freedom, seems to have been largely the THE PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN {1856) 375 work of Lincoln. Other distinguished men un- doubtedly co-operated in Illinois and elsewhere, and the new party was the outcome of a great popular movement; still Lincoln stands pre-emi-> nent as its organizer. And so solid was its or- ganization that it resisted all the subtle efforts of Douglas at a later time to breach it in Illinois, though he had astonishing success in other States than his own, particularly in the East. We have to infer that the best leadership of the young party showed itself in the West, and its 'eader there was Lincoln. The Bloomington Convention of 1856, with its "Lost Speech," is, therefore, a pivotal event in the history of the party, which now is planned and directed on lines that will ultimately lead it to victory. We are to see that Lincoln organized the political forces and formulated the political doctrines which finally carried him into the Presidency. It is not said that he was the first to start them, for they bubbled up spon- taneously almost everywhere in the North from the depths of mightily agitated Folk-Soul. But he had a chief hand in shaping them unto the ful- filment of their end, and then took, or rather had to take, the leadership. 11. The Presidential Campaign (1856). In the Democratic Convention of 1856, the strik- ing fact is that the South rejects, has to reject, its 376 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. two chief Northern supporters. Pierce, during his Administration, had certainly manifested his friendliness, if not his subserviency, to the South- 'erners; but his policy had lost him the North, and he could not have been re-elected. Besides, he had shown himself weak-willed — a defect which the People despise in an Executive. But how about Douglas who had certainly no lack of will- power? He has to be rejected also by those for whose sake he has sacrificed his popularity in his own State and in the whole North. On the first ballot he received only fourteen votes from his Southern supporters. Very doubtful seemed his election if nominated. And not a few Southerners suspected him ; he had already emphasized strongly the doctrine that the People of a territory must determine whether they will have slavery or not — a doctrine not agreeable to the extremists of the South. Douglas could not help feeling the sting of ingratitude when he saw that his very cham- pionship of the Southrons and their cause, was what made them throw him overboard, as unavail- able in his own section. The stress being upon a negative availability, the nomination fell to James Buchanan of Pennsylvania, who had been out of the country during the Kansas trouble, as minis- ter to England. He had not taken sides, but the South evidently knew their man, and took care that they knew him. He had less will even than Pierce; indeed, he must be pronounced the most THE PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN {1S56). 377 will-less Executive (really a contradiction in terms), that ever occupied the Presidential chair. As a counterpart to him the Republican Convention nominated John C. Fremont, then an unknown man as regards character or fitness for the position of President. As the candidates represented almost nothing personally, the two platforms furnished the fight- ing-ground for the campaign. It was thus a con- flict of principles, each party had .to explain before the people the reason of its existence. On the whole the Democratic may be called a Douglas platform, ro-affirming the repeal of the Missouri Compromise and the non-interference of Congress in the Territories. And the idea of Popular Sov- ereignty seems to dominate the resolution which declares that the People of all the Territories have the right "to form a Constitution with or without domestic slavery," and it is to be formed ''through the legally and fairly expressed will of the actual residents." But here rose the ambiguity: Douglas and the Democratic Administration thought that the Missourians, having seized the legal ma- chinery, represented "the legally and fairly ex- pressed will of the actual residents." But how- ever interpreted in this matter, the platform as a whole, maintained the Federal Union to be two- fold still — Slave-State producing and Free-State producing, as it undoubtedly had been in the past. The essential thing in the Republican platform 378 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. was the declaration that Congress could and ought to prevent the spread of slavery into the Territo- ries, all of which, and not merely Kansas, should become Free-States. This is Kansas made univer- sal, or at least national. Hence the campaign slogan of the new party was, Freedom is national, Slavery is sectional. To this was retorted with effect that the new party, having practically no existence in the South, was itself sectional. Thus there came about the peculiar political cross-fire of the two sides in which a sectional party main- tained a national principle, and a national party maintained a sectional principle. Breaking out of this confounding sport of phrases, we can see distinctly that the Republican party now affirms for its basic doctrine that the Federal Union, as genetic, must be henceforth Free-State producing only. Undoubtedly this prin- ciple had been often before enounced, especially as a third-party doctrine; but now it is backed by one of the two great political parties and has an outlook upon realization. We may, therefore, consider it a great new step in advance, really a new view of the Union, compared with former platforms of the two leading parties. That which individuals and smaller political bodies had long since uttered, at present gets organized in one of the larger parties — an event truly epochal, just at this time brought to the surface chiefly by the Kansas conflict. Thus the Republican platform THE PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN (1856) 379 of 1856 has in it a progressive evolutionary ele- ment; while, on the other hand, the Democratic platform clings essentially to the old view of the Union as dualistic, as productive of both Slave- States and Free-States. The Republican doctrine substantially takes away the politically creative power of the South, which is to produce no more States of its own kind. The Southerners naturally regarded this doctrine as assailing their equality in the Union, since it deprived them of their participation in the produc- tion of new States, which is really the deepest and most unique activity of the American form of Gov- ernment. Now it was this doctrine of restriction put upon the South that forced it to the opposite doctrine, which seeks to keep it State-producing, as creative of at least its share of States. Hence, the Southerners started to insist upon the protec- tion of slaves as property in the Territories ; thus slavery would have an equal, if not better chance of making them Slave-States. It was at this point that the South began to distrust Douglas for his doctrine of Popular Sovereignty, which allowed the people to settle this question of State-produc- tion. Here too we may note that the Republican doc- trine has its limitation . It did not touch the already existent Slave-States, and seek to make them Free-States. The Federal Union, if it is to be universally Free-State producing, cannot stoj) with 3S0 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. the Territories. And a true principle will render itself universal — which result the war brought about, making also the former Slave-States over into Free-States. And this is what Lincoln saw and asserted when he declared that this Nation cannot remain half-and-half, but must become all one thing or the other; freedom or slavery must universalize itself, and Lincoln, as all now see, was to be the chief instrument of such universal- ization . But this is not yet, though certainly on the road. Buchanan, the Democratic candidate was elected, getting 174 electoral votes to Fremont's 114, while the third candidate Fillmore won but a single State, Maryland. Noteworthy is it that the North went overwhelmingly with the Repub- licans, the South even more overwhelmingly with the Democrats. Very plainly does the election show the breach in the Nation. Still the Nation as a whole declares that it is double, yea cre- atively double. So the South understands the situation, and backed by another four years' ad- ministration, proceeds anew to make a Slave-State out of Kansas. The territorial troubles, quiescent during the Presidential canvas, begin to flame up again with fresh energy, undoubtedly insti- gated from Washington. For the South cannot surrender its fundamental right in the Union, namely to produce States of its own kind. The equality of the Sections is gone if the North alone THE DEED SCOTT DECISION. 381 possesses the reproductive power of the Nation. This is really the struggle, now renewed with fresh desperation. At the same time, as a prelude of its revived purpose, the South flings a bomb which had for a while the effect of dazing the whole North, the Chief-Justice of the United States in this case being the individual bomb-thrower. Already the legislative and executive Powers of Government had been wielded against free Kansas; next the third Power, the judicial, is brought to the front to do its part to the same end. III. The Dred Scott Decision. And now is delivered the third great blow of the decade in favor of the Slave-power — the decis- ion of the Supreme Court in the case of Dred Scott — the other two blows being the repeal of the Missouri Compromise antl the election of a Democratic President. Again Lincoln will be deeply aroused, and he will advance to meet Douglas as the defender of Judge Taney. Two days after the inauguration of Buchanan the decision was rendered, which affirmed, among other matters, that the Missouri Compromise of 1820 was unconstitutional. Congress having no power to pass it, or indeed to prohibit slavery in the Territories. Thus the chief doctrine of the 382 ABRAHAM LIXCOLX—PART SECOXD. Republican party was put under the ban of law by the highest Tribunal of the land. Nay the doctrine of Popular Sovereignty was undermined by the decision, since the people of a Territory, just as little as Congress, could keep slavery out of the Territories. Still Douglas warmly sup- ported the decision and attempted to reconcile it with his peculiar doctrine, even putting on an air of triumi)h. Again the Northern Folk-Soul feels the stab and is roused to renewed anti-slavery ex- citement. Douglas once more hastens home, and at the Capital of Illinois makes a speech, not only defending the decision, but also seeking to blacken all who oppose it as law-breakers and revolution- ists, as "enemies of the Constitution and of the supremacy of the laws." In this way he hopes to make the Republican party an illegal organiza- tion, which should not only not be tolerated but punished. Of course such a challenge calls out his antag- onist, Lincoln, who now comes to the front with a speech (Springfield, June 2Gth, 1857), replying to that of Douglas. Says he: "We think the Dred Scott decision erroneous. We know the court that made it has often overruled its own decis- ions, and we shall do what we can to have it overrule this." At the same time "we offer no resistance to it. . . . Who resists it? Who has, in spite of the decision, declared Dred Scott free, and resisted the authority of the master THE DEED SCOTT DECISION. 383 over him?" In all of which Lincoln shows him- self the institutional man who does not permit his moral indignation to turn him into a revolution- ist. The Dred Scott decision ought to be re- versed, but this must be done in a constitutional way. Douglas had tried in his speech to make it ap- pear that all who questioned the correctness of the decision, were resisting it by violence. At this point Lincoln turns Douglas against Douglas by showing that the latter had denounced the decis- ion of the Supreme Court in favor of the United States bank. "Again and again have I heard Judge Douglas denounce that bank decision and applaud General Jackson for disregarding it. It w^ould be interesting for him to look over his re- cent speech and see how exactly his fierce philip- pics against us fall on his head." Here Lincoln is truly dialetical, he makes Douglas undo Douglas, and shows that the latter, judged by his present standard, once "fought in the ranks of the enemies of the Constitution," which is the reproach he tries to fasten upon Lincoln and others. With equal skill the speaker makes his antag- onist fight himself, and- indeed annul himself in regard to the argument upon amalgation. Per- haps the most interesting paragraph of the speech now is that he singles out Douglas as his future competitor. "Three years and a half ago," says he, "Judge Douglas brought forward his famous 384 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Nebraska bill. The country was at once in a blaze. . . Since then he has seen himself su- perseded in a Presidential nomination . . . and he has seen that rival constitutionally elected, not by the strength of his friends but by the di- vision of adversaries, being in a popular minority of nearly four hundred thousand votes. He has seen his chief aids in his own State, Shields and Richardson, politically speaking, successively tried, condemned, and executed, for an offense not their own, but his. And noio he sees his own case stand- ing next on the docket for trial.'" Who is to be the prosecutor of Douglas in this great political trial? Evidently Lincoln himself, who now looks forward to it with a sort of tri- umphant delight. The allusion is to the contest for Senatorship which is to take place the coming year, before the People as Supreme Judge. The two life-long adversaries arc to be brought to- gether in their pivotal contest, whose prize is loom- ing up hazily in the distance as something far greater than the Illinois Senatorship. Already Lincoln has aligned his party in the State, and put himself at its head ready for the charge. We can almost see him in this speech flashing his sword and shaking it defiantly at his antagonist. He is now conscious that the Folk-Soul is with him, and that he is its voice and its leader against its favorite who has lost touch with it. Douglas was well aware of the situation. The THE DRED SCOTT DECISION. 385 astute politician could not help seeing which way the wind was blowing, and casting about to catch some of it in his own sails. Besides, he had his deep, though secret grudge against the Southern wing of his own party which had so ungratefully thrown him overboard at Cincinnati. He must also have seen by his visit to Illinois that the Dred Scott decision was not going to destroy the Re- publican party, but to nerve it to new and stronger endeavor. The opportunity comes not only for paying back an old score, but for adjust- ing himself anew with the North, which he had so deeply alienated. But that comes later. It should be stated that Douglas in this Spring- field speech, distinctly enounces that which was afterward known as his Freeport doctrine, and which is supposed to have lost him the South. He had the very difficult task of reconciling his Squatter Sovereignty with the Dred Scott decision. "A master's right to his slave in that Territory (Kansas) continues in full force under the guaran- tees of the Constitution, and cannot be divested or alienated by an act of Congress;" still, in spite of this "it necessarily remains a barren and worth- less right unless sustained, protected, and enforced by appropriate police regulations and local legisla- tion prescribing adequate remedies for its viola- tion." And such legislation "depends upon the people of the Territory," and so it comes that "the great principle of Popular Sovereignty is sus- 25 386 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. tained and firmly established by this decision" of Judge Taney, who undoubtedly intended just the opposite. Of course the true inference here is just the re- verse of that which Douglas draws, and Lincoln grips him in the retort that such a doctrine must hold "that a thing may lawfully be driven away from a place where it has a lawful right to be." Douglas felt that he must keep the Anti-Nebraska democrats in his fold if he ever wished to return to the United States Senate. So he quiets their apprehensions by telling them that the Dred Scott decision is good law, but it can be easily circum- vented by my little device known as Squatter Sovereignty, which Lincoln calls a humbug. The question will arise, Did Douglas believe his own reasoning? Certainly he affirms a contradiction: the right of the formal law to unquestioned obe- dience and the right to make it inoperative and null. So Douglas has primarily breached himself; his own doctrine is dual, having a Northern and a Southern side ; in Kansas it favors the Slave-State, yet at the same time it gives a quick turn and favors the Free-State. Surely Douglas has become double like the Double Nation; his very conscious- ness is twofold and contradictory. Thus he seems a kind of embodied duplicity, havhig been assimi- lated to that Janus-faced God of his. Squatter Sov- ereignty. By way of contrast we can sep Lincoln now at DEMOCRACY BREACHED. 387 one with himself, having risen out of his duahsm through the long discipline of his Subsidence al- ready portrayed. But Douglas has really breached himself in his support of the Dred Scott decision; behold Lincoln, his antitype, standing up at Springfield and pointing out the fact to the people. But Douglas cannot stop with this act, so here fol- lows the next. IV. Democracy breached. Who did it? Douglas. He had already caused the great breach between the North and the South by the repeal of the Missouri Compromise ; he now breaches the Democratic party itself, hitherto united, calling forth in it a Northern wing and a Southern. Thus disunion has entered and split the party of the Double Union, which means at bottom national Disunion. The occasion was again Kansas, upon which the Administration and the South, encouraged by the Dred Scott decision, resolved afresh to foist sla- very against the will of the people. The Lecomp- ton scheme was hatched for this purpose. Doug- las saw his chance and declared his opposition already at his home in Illinois. When he reached Washington for the oj)ening of Congress in De- cember, 1857, he went to the President, to whom he declared that he should denounce the scheme in the Senate. Buchanan in a fit of wrath rose 3^8 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. and said: ''Mr. Douglas, I desire you to remember that no Democrat ever differed from an adminis- tration of his own choice without being crushed. Beware of the fate of Talhnadge and Rives." Whereat Douglas also rose in opposition and re- plied: "Mr. President, I wish you to remember that General Jackson is dead." A piercing and defiant response, with a sting in it too, which lay in the contemptuous contrast between the weakest- willed President that was ever in the White House, and the strongest-willed one, yea sometimes head- strong. On the 9th of December Douglas backed up his words outside by an equally daring speech in the Senate, in which speech he seems to see for the first time the real situation in Kansas. Great praise he won from the Republicans, especially from the Eastern Press, which began to hail him as the new leader. But Douglas still was Douglas with his Popular Sovereignty and his non-inter- vention of Congress. Says he: ''If Kansas wants a Slave-State Constitution, she has a right to it; if she wants a Free-State Constitution she has a right to it ; it is none of my business wliich way the slavery clause is decided. / care not whether it is voted down or voted up." The attitude taken in this last sentence was the grand fatality of Douglas . On account of his in- difference he became equally objectionable to the men of conviction both in the North and the South, to those who disbelieved in slavery as well DEMOCRACY BREACHED. 389 as to those who believed in it. And there were many Douglas Democrats, especially in the North, who did not relish such cynicism on the great moral question of the age. Particularly in Kansas would such an expression fall with a shock, since at this time a majority of the fighting Free-State men were Douglas Democrats. Imagine their chill when they hear that what they care most about, their leader docs not care about at all. Really has not Douglas eliminated himself from the grand struggle of the time? He does not care whether this Federal Union shall be pro- ductive of Free-States or Slave-States — the very problem which Civilization or the World-Spirit has called up for solution, and which is fermenting deeply in the Folk-Soul. At this weakest spot in Douglas Lincoln will not fail to thrust his spear with telling effect before the assembled People in the coming debate. It is evident that three parties have begun to appear and are putting themselves in shape for the future. These we may set down as follows: 1. The Southern (Democratic) which says more Slave-States ; the Nation must be Slave-State pro- ducing also. 2. The Northern (Republican) which says no more Slave-States ; the Nation must be Free-State producing only. 3. Douglas (Democratic) which says the Nation may be either, or rather should be neither ; let the 390 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. people of the given territory settle the matter among themselves, and let the Nation dismiss the vexatious question. Thus Douglas tries to avoid the world-historical issue of the age, or perchance to circumvent the World-Spirit by a political de- vice, the cunning fellow! Lincoln, on the con- trary, will voice that World-Spirit to the yeomanry of Illinois, so that the whole Nation will hear it, in its judgment of Douglas. It is evident that the Northern (Republican) and the Southern (Democratic) parties have one important tenet in common: both maintain the central supervision of Congress over the territo- ries. Douglas on the contrary would cut off all intervention from the National Legislature; thus he practically denies the Union to be State-pro- ducing, and docs away with its genetic function, really the deepest of all its functions. The scat- tered settlers or squatters are supposed to be alone capable of State-making, that is, of the supreme governmental act, and not Congress, though this is often imagined to be the collective political wisdom of all the States. Against such an abdication of national power and duty, both the anti-slavery and the pro-slavery parties took decided position. But with his device as a weapon Douglas has breached his own party, the Democratic, into a Northern and Southern half, truly a feat of gigan- tic mightiness. Let it be said, however, that this separation lay DEMOCRACY BREACHED. 391 deep in the party itself and also in the man him- self. The Dcmocrac}^ of the Free-States could hardly be called pro-slavery, and the time had come when slaveiy was demanding a belief in itself as morally right. It would no longer endure in- difference even, but required a confession of faith in its eternal justice and goodness from the party which is supported. Herein lurked the possibility of a breach between the Northern and Southern Democracy. And now the breacher appears with his doctrine of ''Don't care." But the deeper fact is that this breacher Douglas is himself breached by his own principle of Popular Sovereignty, whose object is to balk the very law which he says must be obeyed . He decries any man who denounces the Dred Scott decision as a revolutionist, but he tells how to thwart it by his doctrine. Thus Douglas is inwardly dual like his party; indeed he realizes his own dualism in his party, and makes it, as it were, an image of himself. Yea, the Nation shows a similar scission, so that Douglas now is in a pro- found sense the National representative of the time. Herein Lincoln is again his other Self, his antitype, who having made himself a unity within out of dualism, is to make th^ Nation a unity, and even is to unite Douglas, who is at last to be re- deemed from his scission. But not yet for several years. Douglas is still in the height of his breaching period, and has not 392 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. been halted; he is the very genius of division, having divided North and South into two antago- nistic halves of the whole Union by his repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and now he has divided his own party, the De^iiocratic into a Northern and Southern branch. But just se? the Titanic audacity of the breachcr ! he has actually begun to breach his opponents, the Republicans. Who can stop him? V. Republicanism not breached. It has been already noted that Douglas began to break with his party on the issue of the Lccomp- ton Constitution, and to vote with the Republi- cans in favor of free Kansas during the Congres- sional session of 1857-8. Pie even voted against the English bill, a sort of hybrid Democratic meas- lu'e which sought to purchase from the Kansans their Free-State principle by an offer of immediate Statehood and by a gift of land. This was the supreme point of his open approach to Republi- canism . And secretly he was at this time consult- ing with the leading members of the Republican party in Congress and winning them to his view. His line of argument seems to have run in this wise: "Do you not see the real effect of my Repeal of the Missouri Compromise? All the territories south of that line are now open to freedom, not .merely those north of it, like Kansas. The REPUBLICANISM XOT BREACHED 393 fact is, I am the true practical Republican, who has really taken away from the Southerners the lands which would otherwise have fallen to their share. And many of them see it and are denounc- mg me in the Senate. Still I must not quit my party, but must stay in it and keep my followers together; thus I can do more effectual service." The argument was valid. Douglas had como to see that the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise was turning out just the opposite of what he and its original supporters intended. He had began to glimpse the irony of the World-Spirit of which he, as well as the Repul^lican Senators, had hitherto been the sport, being led to promote the reverse of what they had at first purposed. For Douglas and his pro-slavery supporters in the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise had done that which undid them, and on the other hand the great anti- slavery orators, Chase, Sumner, Seward had bit- terly assailed and voted against the very act which conferred the greatest boon upon them and their party. Douglas now begins to see — he did not see at the start — the peculiar contradictory working of his own bill, as it turns out an anti- slavery instead of a pro-slavery measure. More- over he is going to take the credit for its secret anti-slaveryism, having been shamefully cast off by the Southerners in the Democratic Convention of 1856, in spite of his blandishments and services. So Douglas has the insight to catch the drift of 394 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. the time, to feel the subtle irony of the World- Spirit, in accord with which he must make a new adjustment. We cannot, however, believe that Douglas ever intended to become a Republican. But in the new turn of political events, he thought he saw a way of attaching the Republicans or a part of them, to the tail of his Presidential kite, as Lincoln said. He knew that through the Democracy united, he could never be chief magistrate. So he has breached his own party; and if he can breach the Republican party and get one portion of it, he may be able to weld it to his Democratic frag- ment and float on this new co-alition into the Pres- idency, There can be little doubt that the su- preme political aim of Douglas in 1858 was to breach the Republican party. We have already marked his peculiar demiurgic power of sundering what lay opposed to him during this period. Can he rend Republicanism as he has rent the Democ- racy? This we shall find to be his deepest motive in the great Debate with Lincoln in 1858; if he can cleave atwain these new foes, he sees himself riding triumphantly into the coming Senatorship, and why not into the Presidency? And the likelihood seems not remote, for see what a spell the enchanter has cast upon the eyes of champions hitherto most hostile to him and his doctrine! The whole bottom of the Republican party threatens to drop out, and a portion of it REPUBLICANISM NOT BREACHED. 395 does get seriously breached by the subtle arts of the demonic breacher of political parties, Stephen A. Douglas, now at the flower of his negative might. In the East and in Congress a number of influential Republicans thought of taking him up as their leader, and of adopting his doctrine. Prominent newspapers started to agitate in the same direction. It was suggested that the Re- publicans of Illinois help re-elect Douglas as Sen- ator in 1858. Particularly Greeley in his New York Tribune advocated this scheme, which meant an abandonment of the Republican principle. Seward probably leaned the same way for a time, though the dexterous politician kept shy of any public utterance. His supposed organ, the New York Times, was, however, outspoken in favor of the surrender. This was probably the most dan- gerous moment in the entire existence of the Re- publican party, which had fought the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, had outlived the defeat of 1856, had risen up to new life under the stagger- ing blow of the Dred Scott decision. Now the arch-divider, Douglas, has gotten somehow inside the organization and is preparing to divide it as he has divided his own party recently, and has divided his country into two antagonistic sections by his deed of 1854. Will he succeed? Just at this critical moment steps forward Abraham Lincoln in the Convention of Illinois Republicans assembled at Springfield 396 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. and shouts No ! in commanding tones which soon finc-l an echo throughout the North. In his speech there made (June IGth, 1858), he exposes the vital difference between Repubhcanism and Douglas- ism. No ''don't care" pohcy for us here in this State; and he winds up with a lofty exhortation: "Our cause must then be intrusted to and con- ducted by its own undoubted friends — those whose hands are free and whose hearts are in the work, who do care for the result." His words were backed enthusiastically by the Convention, which nominated him as the Republi- can candidate for United States Senator in the coming campaign against Douglas. In a number of respects this act of Lincoln and of his faithful supporters was epoch-making. It saved the party from a split, for gradually the Easterners began to see their own folly and to fall into line. Even Greeley sullenly yielded, though it left him in a sulk which he never got over during the rest of Lincoln's career, not even during the latter's Pres- idency. Indeed Greeley gave himself a l:ilow from which he never afterwards fully recovered. But the main fact is that this e];)isode transfers the seat of authority in the Republican party to the West, which, under Lincoln's leadership, had re- fused to be cajoled into the Armida palace of the subtle magician, there to be blown to pieces. Lincoln, though unconscious probably of any such purpose, had made himself the national REPUBLIC AX ISM NOT BREACHED. 397 leader, having vindicated the world-historical mis- sion of the party, which the Eastern branch, or a leading portion of it, was willing to sacrifice on the plea of expediency. Lincoln reaffirms that the Union must be Free-State producing only — wliich Douglas opposed to the last. And now the two Giants are lined up for the conflict on the prairies of Illinois in the presence of the people, who are to decide the issue which is really their own. It should be noted that it takes the form of a Presidential rather than a Senatorial contest; both Lincoln and Douglas are practically nominated beforehand by their respective parties; the State Legislature will indeed do the choosing of the Senator, but it will have hardly more free- dom of choice than the Electoral College in choos- ing the President. It is, therefore, a sort of pre- liminary Presidential election even in form as well as in significance; though confined to one State, it is enacted before the whole United States, and is felt eveiywhere to be a national matter. No other Senatorial canvas in American History approaches it in interest and importance, and no debate in the Senate itself by the great orators of the old order ever had such a weighty theme or such a far- reaching purport. So we behold our two life-long antitypes in the bloom of their powers enter upon a fresh contest, appealing to the Folk-Soul in personal presence, and trying to win its sufTrage. Each is seeking 398 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND the Senatorship as the immediate prize ; but really each is striving to be the voice of the future, of the Nation's destiny, of the World-Spirit. Which will win that far higher guerdon whose bestowal will elevate its recipient into that other Senate composed of the supreme Great Men of Universal History? The Folk-Soul is now called upon to choose, not merely a Senator of the United States, but a much more adequate and exalted represent- ative of itself, nothing less than a mediator be- tween itself and the World-Spirit. Lincoln again loses the chance of going to Washington as law- maker in the Upper House, but wins the loftier position. And now let us turn to him and listen, for he is about to speak the pivotal word of his whole career, and indeed of his Age. VI. Prelude of the Lincolniad. If it were possible in these days to sing an epos with Lincoln as hero, it might well begin at the iatter's contest with Douglas for the national Senatorship of Illinois. The Muse, leaving to one side all the less important preliminaries and prep- arations, would then plunge into the thick of things (m medias res), or rather would intone the central struggle, typical, yea creative of those which follow. Such a Lincolniad, having gotten fairly under way, could not well stop till the PRELUDE OF THE LIN COIN I AD. 399 death of the hero. It would start, if not with a famous quarrel, at least with a famous debate be- tween the two leaders on the Northern side, as the Iliad opens with a furious contest of speeches on the Greek side between its two leaders, Achilles and Agamemnon. But as before those divided Greeks rises the far deeper problem of the capture of Troy upon which they will be united, so be- fore these debating Americans on the Prairie comes the outlook upon a far deeper problem, nothing less than the preservation of their na- tional Union, in regard to which they will be united. In both songs, however, American as well as Greek, Helen will be finally restored, but only after untold woes, in which many a soul is sent to Hades, and the will of Zeus is accomplished. The life of the modern Great Man, however, calls for a literary vehicle different from the old epos, though the main function of the latter was also to set forth the pivotal deeds of the hero of his People. But the Iliad is not a biography of Achilles, even if its object be to give the weightiest moment of his career, and to portray that mighty inner change which makes him truly he- roic, and concentrates into one brilliant action lasting a few days the worth of his whole life. Our biographic Lincolniad moves not that way, it seeks to bring to light the long, dark, fameless evolution of a career till it bursts forth into its supreme deed, which is thus in a measure ac- 400 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND counted for, being seen in its growth from germ to bloom. To be sure, the old epos did not fail to throw irregular glances back into the early life of its hero, and the Iliad in one long scene intro- duces Phoenix, primal pedagogue to the boy Achilles, who is thereby briefly seen in his heroic budding. In the Lincolniad also, as here marked out, there is a prelude or proem which is spoken by the . hero himself, and which forecasts the entire action to the close. It thus gleams with a golden poetic vein of prophecy, which is not merely the fiction of the poet telling in advance the course of fabled adventures, but the man of the deed himself voicing the next great reality of the World's His- tory. To our mind this Prelude is the weightiest word ever spoken by any American man, of what- ever station; very brief it is, a single small para- graph, but it is freighted with the burden of a new^-born world. Lincoln has now reached the point when he must give utterance to the Idea which has been fermenting so long in his soul. Already he has often expressed it in private to his friends: This Nation cannot exist half-slave and half-free. In 1856 it is reported that he proposed to proclaim the doctrine in a speech at Bloomington, but was dissuaded by his conservative friend, Judge Dickey. But in 1858 he is the chosen leader of his party, and he resolves to base his contest with PRELUDE OF THE LIXCOLXIAD. 401 Douglas upon what he deems the deepest pohtical fact of the time. His opportunity comes when he has to address the Convention which has nomi- nated him for Senator against Douglas (June IGth, 1885). Moreover, the first paragraph which contains those memorable sentences already al- luded to as the Prelude to the truly heroic part of his career, shows Lincoln at his highest, when he gives voice to the future and unconsciously out- lines his own supreme vocation in the coming con- flict. The whole paragraph may well be cited (with some parenthetic comments), as the Prelude to the Lincolniad now starting, if not to sing, at least to speak in an exalted prophetic strain what the Gods have decreed. "Mr. President and Gentlemen of the Convention: If we could first know where we are and whither ive are tending, we could better judge what to do and how to do it. (The stress of the speech as a whole is to indicate whither wc, the People, are tending in the slavery question). We are now far into the fifth year since a policy was initiated with the avowed object and confident promise of put- ting an end to slavery agitation (the policy of re- pealing the Missouri Compromise). Under the operation of that policy, that agitation has not only not ceased, but has constantly augmented. (Whither is it tending?) In my opinion it will not cease till a crisis shall have been reached and passed. (A glimpse or presentiment, one thinks, of the 26 402 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. approaching Civil War). 'A house divided against itself cannot stand.' (This popular proverb has given title to the speech, as it sums up the crisis). I BELIEVE THIS GOVERNMENT CANNOT ENDURE PERMANENTLY HALF-SLAVE AND HALF-FREE. (The pointed application of the foregoing proverb to the special case in hand. This piercing statement of the political situation expressed the rising con- viction of the North, and has since been adopted by the People as its own very utterance of itself. In this single sentence we may hear the World- Spirit speaking through Abraham Lincoln to the Folk-Soul, which is getting ready to accept it as its own, and to carry it out, for there is in it an implied command to overcome the division so that the House may stand. For listen:) I do not ex- pect the Union to be dissolved, I do not expect the House to fall, but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing or all the other. (Thus under the bitter division of the time Lincoln sees the trend toward unity, toward the new Union which will eradicate the acrid and ever-irritating dualism between Slave- State and Free-State). Either the opponents of slavery will arrest the further spread of it and place it where the Public Mind shall rest in the belief that it is in course of ultimate extinc- tion; or its advocates will push it forward till it shall become alike lawful in all the States, old as well as new. North as well as South." PRELUDE OF THE LIXCOLXIAD. 403 Such is what we deem the Prekide of the Lin- colniad, or of the Epos of Lincohi, not fabulous by any moans but historic, enacted througli the deed itself and recorded not in Plellenic Olympian ideality, but in American terrestrial reality. Still this Epos of the solid fact bears the impress of a poetic whole, being preluded by a prophetic strain which prefigures Lincoln's work in its full circuit, till the assassin's bullet closes his career, and his task of making this Nation "become all one thing" and not the other thing, is practically com- plete. The half-and-halfness of the old order must end, and end in the right way; and when it ends, Lincoln himself ends with it, and the Epos concludes in the death of individual hero, alas! but in the triumph of his cause, and in the ful- filment of the prophetic Prelude Certain curious facts concerning this epochal speech have been handed down by Hemdon, who was in the same office with Lincoln at this time. He wrote it "on stray envelopes and scraps of paper, as ideas suggested themselves, putting them into that miscellaneous and convenient re- ceptacle, his hat. As the Convention drew near, he copied the whole on connected sheets, carefully revising every line and sentence, and fastened them together for convenience during the delivery of the speech and for publication." So we im- agine our Lincoln walking the street with the great problem of the time always seething in him; 404 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. suddenly there bubbles up from the unseen depths the right thought already clothed in its happiest expression; he stops suddenly just there as if halted by his own Genius, and claps his hand into his pocket for an old letter or blank leaf of paper on which he transcribes his inspiration, word for word, as whispered directly f:-om the lips of the Muse. Then behold him taking off that high- crowned hat of his and depositing the precious sentence safely within it, which, we recollect, was formerly his Post Office at New Salem. Goethe once wished for a leathern jerkin on which he might inscribe any sudden verse sent down to him from Parnassus, while he was moving about in prosaic occupations. Of the two devices we would vote for Lincoln's. Far more significant is the record wdiich Hern- don has handed down concerning the immediate reception of the doctrine by Lincoln's Springfield political associates. "Before delivering his speech, he invited a dozen or so of his friends over to the library of the State House, w^here he read and submitted it to them. After the reading, he asked each man for his opinion." Not one endorsed it except Herndon himself, who, in a sudden burst of prophetic exaltation, declared: "Lincoln, de- liver that speech as read, and it will make you President." So Herndon reports himself foretell- ing — which report, of course, reaches the reader some years after the marvelous fulfilment. There PRELUDE OF THE LINCOLXIAD. 405 can be no doubt, however, that Herndon strongly backed Lincohi, who felt in his law-partner and intimate companion a true part of himself, and yet only a part. For Herndon, though of South- ern extraction, was an abolitionist after the pat- tern of Theodore Parker of Boston, and hence rep- resented the moral opposition to slavery, very intense but one-sided. On the other hand most of the friends of Lincoln were conservative, and put stress upon the institutional element. Now Lincoln had, we hold, both sides in him, the moral and institutional, and also their reconciliation, as far as this was possible under the old political order. But likewise he had both sides outside of him, and around him in two sets of warm friends and supporters, yet always clashing with each other in his presence. Lincoln saw his political problem incarnate before him in the conflict of these two sets of his own followers. The whole Republican party had the same inner conflict, and would have fallen asunder unless the moral and the institutional elements of the opposition to slavery had been reconciled in a common princi- ple, but above all, in a common leader, who knew both elements well, and felt both deeply. Hern- don had his decided place in Lincoln's develop- ment as the ever-present moral protest of the time against the black wrong, and did not fail to keep this side of the question alive in the sympathetic soul of his friend. 406 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART SECOND. Lincoln rising from liis seat, replies to his ob- jecting counselors: ''Friends, this thing has been retarded long enough.- The time has come when these sentiments should be uttered; and if it is de- creed that I should go down because of this speech, then let me go down linked to the truth — let me die in the advocacy of what is just and right." Recollect that the chief declaration is that this dual Nation must now become single in its State-producing power. Again says Lincoln somewhat defiantly to a protesting friend: "If I had to draw a pen across my record and erase my whole life from sight, and I had one poor gift or choice left as to what I should save from the wreck, I should choose that speech and leave it to the world unerased" (Herndon and Weik's Ldncoln, pp. 65-70). The essence of the speech is the Prelude, which has the smiting trip-hammer sentences, whose blows forged the shape of the future . Its similarity to Seward's "irrepressible conflict" has been often re- marked . Did either draw from the other? It so happens that Seward's Rochester speech, from which those words are taken, was delivered Oc- tober 25th, 1S58, more than four months after the preluding speech of Lincoln at Springfield . More- over Seward was suspected of silently favoring Douglasism for a while, till he rather suddenly woke up from his reticence. x\t the time Sewar I was a far more prominent man than Lincoln, PRELUDE OF THE LINCOLN I AD. 407 still, as a good politician and as a Presidential as- pirant, he must have kept his ear open to the breezes from the Western prairie, and they would have borne to him in four months many echoes of Lincoln's stirring Prelude. Then we must recol- lect that the last of the seven joint debates between Lincoln and Douglas, which resounded through the whole nation, continually reverberating that Pre- lude, took place on October 15th, ten days before Seward's speech at Rochester. It is highly prob- able that Seward not only knew well the declara- tions of Lincoln's Prelude, but was roused from his political stupor of Douglasism, which infected New York and all the East, by the new national prominence of Lincoln, who has suddenly become a Presidential possibility. So much for the Prelude to the Lincolniad which has proved itself to have a world-historical import, being the prophetic utterance of a great epoch. The word of it seems to be marching forthright to the deed with a dizzying swiftness ; in less than a decade this nation is no longer half slave half free . The prophecy is going to be fulfilled with far greater rapidity than Lincoln at first could have dreamed. And now let it be noted that the an- titypal counterpart, Douglas, has also his Prelude in due symmetry; the twinned Dioscuri of the Prairie, though at opposite poles, cannot separate, indeed cannot do without each other. But the preluding strain of Douglas will have in it no 408 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. deep-seeing, prophetic glance ; on the contrary he will denounce Lincoln's words of foresight with no little asperity, stoning the prophet with hard accusations of fomenting ill feeling between North and South, and even disunion. Douglas reached his home in Chicago from Washington, and made his opening speech on July 9th, 1858, not a month after Lincoln's nomination for Senator, when the latter uttered his far- reaching Prelude. In this speech Douglas shows a complacent mood, a happy state of self-glorifica- tion, and seems to forecast his coming triumph. His first point is his great victory over his own Democratic Administration, which tried to force the Lecompton Constitution upon the people of Kansas whether they wanted it or not — a com- plete victory for Popular Sovereignty. But he claims an equally great victory over the Republi- cans in Congress since they voted for the Critten- den-Montgomery bill, which permitted Kansas to de- cide for itself whether it would have slavery or free- dom. This bill, however, was rejected in the Sen- ate, though it passed the House by the vote of Republicans, who well knew that in this particu- lar case the Kansans, having fought valiantly for their freedom some three years, would at the least chance vote as they fought. But Douglas thinks that the Republicans have come, or will soon come over to his side permanently, dropping their principle of the exclusion of slavery from the terri- PRELUDE OF THE LIXCOLXIAD. 409 tories for his doctrine of Popular Sovereignty. And there is no doubt that in the Eastern States he is playing havoc, he is breaching the Repub- hcan party. • Can he do it in Illinois? At this pivotal moment Lincoln meets him, meets him in the breach and begins the combat. In this same preluding speech of his, Douglas pays some attention to Lincoln personally, whom the Republicans of Illinois have nominated to be "my successor in the Senate." Courteously, but somewhat condescendingly, if we catch his tone aright, he pictures his antagonist: "I take great pleasure in saying that I have known, personally and intimately, for about a quarter of a century, the worthy gentleman who has been nominated for my place, and I will say that I regard him as a kind, amiable and intelligent gentleman, a good citizen and an honorable opponent; and whatever issue I may have with him will be of principle and not involving personalities." This is all very gra- cious, but the note will change before the debate is over. Douglas proceeds to tackle Lincoln's preluding speech before the Republican Convention, which he sees to be the pivotal utterance of the cam- paign, calling it "a speech well prepared and care- fully written." First Douglas assails the half-and- half doctrine, which he deems a call to "a war of sections, a war of the North against the South." Then he pronounces strongly against Lincoln's 410 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. view of the Dred Scott decision. Both these points will be often reiterated in the coming Debate, with keen retorts of the contestants. But what a difference in the two Preludes! Lin- coln's is a prophecy proclaiming the one homo- geneous Nation of the future, prefiguring the movement of the Age, voicing the very decree of the World-Spirit. The Prelude of Douglas rises to no such lofty outlook, but simply reaffirms the old Double Nation, whose doom has been pro- nounced in many ways, but in the most impressive way by Douglas himself through his repeal of the Missouri Compromise. To be sure Douglas in 1854 did not intend any such Last Judgment of the old order, nevertheless it lay deeply ensconced in his pivotal act, and now behold it dragged forth to light and uttered in smiting words by Lincoln as the grand Prelude to his and the Na- tion's coming World-historical deed. But did Douglas remain wholly insensible to its deep significance? Again and again he assailed in the debate this Prelude, trying to divert it or rather to pervert it to something else ; but he only caused its repeated assertion by Lincoln with fresh illustration and renewed energy. Did not Douglas also secretly feel its power, as he sat there on the stand near Lincoln re-iterating and enforcing in exalted speech that preluding prophecy as the very soul of the entire contest? We hold that he could not altogether keep out of the magnetic PRELUDE OF THE UXCOLXIAD. 411 current of inspired conviction which animated the speech and the form of his stalwart antagonist. And then another and mightier phenomenon kept recurring in the presence of Douglas. Standing there on the prairie in the sun and looking up into his face he witnessed the Folk-Soul itself embodied in thousands and thousands, and heard its tremendous response to Lincoln's words, which it adopted as its own true ut- terance then and there. Unforgetable must that experience have been by the Little Giant, for he could not help seeing the most unique and transcendent fact of the whole campaign, if not of the time. "What was that? He saw Lin- coln in the very act of mediating the World-Spirit with the Folk-Soul, and voicing the command of the former to the latter, which thereby became conscious of that command as its own deepest purpose, and began to get ready to obey it at any sacrifice. Douglas and his followers being also present in the hidden but mighty stream, could not help feeling the "irresistible Power" which Lincoln had evoked, and which he also de- scribed to his hearers already under its influence. The Democratic opposition and its leader Douglas, listening to the voice of Lincoln perchance un- willingly, cannot avoid hearing the great new behest of the Age, and they too quite uncon- sciously, yea almost in spite of themselves, are getting rea,dy to obey it at the call of this same 412 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Lincoln, and even now are secretly aligning them- selves under him for the other and mightier conflict. But that is not yet here, though on the way, while the two Giants are at hand and have act- ually begun their Nation-shaking encounter, which must next be told. VII. Gigantomachia. So in our modern prosaic day we are to witness an actual Battle of Giants on the unelevated, rather unpoetic prairie of Ilhnois. Two Giants, the Little and the Big — so called in popular phrase — are going to grapple with each other in an Olympian v\Testle, not so much of brawn as of brain. Strangely an old fable of the ages seems to be new-born among an unmythical folk, and is to be re-enacted with fresh life and in modern fash- ion. Not now will the Giants war against the Gods (as old Hesiod puts it) in the twilight of time; the Gods are indeed dethroned, so that the Giants, being two, have to fight each other for the divine heritage. It is indeed a contest of endurance, yea of physical endurance; but in its supreme scope it is a contest of principles. Each of the Giants is a voice calling to the People who are to choose one of them as leader for the yet deeper and more desperate struggle which is coming. The Folk- Soul in the depths of its brooding may be con- GIGANTOMACHIA. 413 ceived as asking after each trial: Which of the twain speaks to me the word of the age, of civiH- zation, of Universal History — which is bringing the message of the World-Spirit? The question cannot be fully answered at once, not this year, nor the next; but after two years' meditation the Folk- Soul will be ready to say which of the two Illinois Giants is its choice for leader. Let it be noted at the start that Lincoln was quite conscious of the vast audience which he was addressing. Says he in the Quincy debate: "I was aware when it was first agreed that Judge Douglas and I were to have these seven joint dis- cussions, that they were the successive acts of a drama — perhaps I should say to be enacted not merely in the face of audiences like this, but in the face of a Nation, and to some extent by my rela- tion to him and not from anything in myself, in the face of the World." A drama he conceives it, with two interlocutors playing the parts, which have an interest and significance not only national but world-historical. It is for this reason in the main that he changes his style, largely leaving out his anecdotal vein, his mimicry, his fantastic humor. He was speaking more to readers than to listeners; he knew that the vast majority of his audience would quietly peruse the printed page and weigh its propositions far beyond the peri- phery of the spoken word, without the personal charm of voice, manner, gesture. What he said 414 ABRAHAM LIXCOLN—PART SECOND. must stand the test of cold type and of colder rea- son, a thousand miles away and more. He does not propose, therefore, merely to entertain his present hearers, and he will eliminate as far as possible the local and transitory elements of the contest, even if a good deal of the worthless slag of the day's politics still lies imbedded among the priceless gems of his oratory. Lincoln is also aware of something stronger than himself, which he simply voices, yea, stronger than the People, whom it stirs up in a mighty agi- tation, allowing no repose on the slavery ques- tion. What is "that irresistible Power which, for fifty years, has shaken the Government and agitated the People," and which Douglas thinks we can stop "by not talking about it?" But the "Power irresistible" convulses to the center the religious organization as well as the political; look at the division in the churches on account of slavery. It is verily "a mighty deep-seated Power that somehow operates on the minds of men, ex- citing and stirring them up in every avenue of society." Mark that the People are in the clutch of greater Power than themselves, which is giving them no peace of mind. So Lincoln, catching a glimpse of the World-Spirit, voices it to the Folk- Soul in which it is instinctively working, and which thus begins to become conscious of its new Workl- historical vocation. Moreover, the People can have no allayment from this awful fever of agita- GIGAXTOMACHIA. 415 tion till they can find repose in the belief of the ultimate extinction of slavery. Such is Lincoln's repeated statement of the remedy, which, however, he thinks will be a good while in coming. And there will be no war. Lincoln clearly discerns "the irresistible Power," and sees its scope, but its time and manner he does not foresee. Nor is it necessary. The decree of the World-Spirit he cer- tainly hears, and declares its irresistibility; place, time, and circumstance cannot fail at its bidding. We have already noted the irony of the World- Spirit, when its opponents bring about the very thing which they resist with all their might. Such an ironical clement has been pointed out in the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise, which, forged as a pro-slavery thunderbolt and ardently sup- ported by the Southerners, turned out the greatest anti-slavery measure that could be concocted. Lincoln, in one of his best moods, gets a peep into the irony inherent in the Popular Sovereignty of Douglas, and then darts it with success into his audience. After several good hits on the same hne, he winds up: "I defy any man to make an argument that will justify unfriendly legislation [Douglas's scheme for nullifying that very Dred Scott decision which he upholds] to deprive the slaveholder of his right to hold his slave in a Ter- ritory, that will not equally, in all its length, breadth and thickness, furnish an argument for nullifying the Fugitive Slave Law. Why, there is 416 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. not such an Aholitionist in the nation as Douglas after all." These were the last words of Lincohi's last speech in the joint debate with Douglas (at Alton, October loth). It is very plain that he sees in Douglas the unconscious instrument of the aboli- tion of slavery, and chaffs him with telling humor upon his contradictory attitude. There is no doubt that Douglas feels the force of the thrust, for he does not undertake to parry it except with a little joke. He has been shown to be really the groat nullifier of the Dred Scott decision through his Popular Sovereignty. By the irony of the World-Spirit he and his doctrine are made to do the subtlest work of Abolitionism. He is a worse enemy of Judge Taney than Lincoln, in spite of his {protestations. Did he intend any such thing? Certainly not at first ; but Douglas is by nature a brcacher, a divider, a dualizer; such a character primarily breaches itself. Now it is this inner breach which Lincoln turns up to the light so effectively. After the debate Douglas must have understood himself much better; at least he must have been made conscious of the doubleness of his attitude.. In fact, Douglas affirms the Double Nation as the cardinal point of his political faith. "This Republic can exist forever, divided into Free and Slave States." This is directly opposite to Lin- coln's doctrine, that the Nation cannot continue GIGANTOMACHIA. 417 to exist half slave and half free. There is no doubt that the characters of the two men were reflected in their doctrines. Douglas, we repeat, was himself dual, being moulded by his long stay at the Capital into an image of the Dual Union in all its C(>ntradiction. But we have seen Lincoln during his Subsidence working out of tlie national -dualism into which he had been dipped through his Congressional term at the Capftal. It must not be forgotten, however, that both adversaries are one in their devotion to the Union, though each has a different way of making it perpetual. The one says half-and-half ness forever; the other says the contrary. Douglas says the great danger to the Union is anti-slavery; Lincoln says it is slavery. Still, let us mark the common institu- tional substrate in both, for it will at last unite even the antitypes. If we look at the immediate purpose or motive of the two contestants, we see, first of all, that each was seeking to do to the other what the other was seeking to do to him. Lincoln was trying to keep Douglas from breaching the Republican party and to widen the breach in the Democratic party; while Douglas was skillfully exerting himself to breach the Republicans and to hold together the Democrats. Thus both endeavored to do the same thing; to divide the enemy and not to let the enemy divide him and his. The Republican was the young party, still in a state of formation, 27 418 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. which Douglas must somehow prevent ; the Demo- cratic was the old party, rather in a state of disso- lution, which Lincoln would encourage. But his chief object was to thwart the great brcacherof par- ties, Stephen A. Douglas, in the latter's present attempt to cleave in twain the Republican party, and to take a goodly share of it for himself. So Lincoln now thrusts himself in between Douglas and his object, at first tlogging his steps from place to place, and then challenging him to a direct per- sonal combat before the people. It is this challenge which brings about the seven joint debates, the seven personal combats of the Gigantomachia. The report has come down that Douglas did not wish to engage in it, and said so privately. He was aware that he would make Lincoln famous, declaring that "if he gets the best of the debate — and I want to say he is the ablest man the Republicans have got — I shall lose every- thing and Lincoln will gain everything." Inter- esting is this as another testimony to Douglas's appreciation of Lincoln, who has been already designated in public by him as "an amiable and intelligent gentleman." But this private word has no neutral tint; Douglas knew well the strength of his adversary. The question comes up. Did Lincoln have as true an appreciation of him? Still Douglas could hardly refuse the challenge, else the hard-fisted sons of the prairie would re- gard him as backing out from the offer of a fair GIGANTOMACHIA. 419 fight. Then Douglas was naturally pugnacious and rather liked a scrimmage, in which the little fighting-cock would ruffle his feathers with an im- posing audacity. Lincoln, Quaker-strained, did not love contention, with one striking exception: he did want to contend with Douglas. This is shown by the way he followed Douglas around from place to place, tackling the Little Giant as soon as the latter touched the soil of Illinois. For Lin- coln was at hand and sat on the platform when Douglas, having reached home, made his preluding speech in Chicago (July 9th, 1858). The next day Lincoln answered it in the same city; he will not permit Douglas even to start the breach of the Republican party in Illinois without a hand-to- hand fight at every point. So he follows Douglas to Bloomington, and thence on to Springfield, where the Little Giant speaks in the day time and the Big Giant answers him the same evening (July 17th). Thus they keep getting closer to each other. A week afterwards Lincoln sent his chal- lenge for a joint debate, which opened at Ottawa (August 21st). The otherwise peaceful Lincoln has one foe with whom he will make no peace; unrevenging generally he seems to have one ven- geance; doubtless too he harbors in that kind- hearted nature of his the one nook of jealousy. This personal feeling spurred and intensified his motive, but it was not, strictly speaking, his mo- tive in the present debate. Lincoln sought to 420 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. save the victorious party of the anti-slavery cause from being disrupted by Douglas, who had already made a very successful start in that enterprise, as we have seen. To be sure Lincoln would have liked the Senatorship, but that was uncertain, very uncertain at the beginning of the canvas. The prize of office he did not win, but the other greater prize, "the bigger game" as he called it, he won decidedly : he kept his party whole for future service. The Presidency also may have hovered before him, and it was suggested by friends; but be- tween the two positions he preferred the Senator- ship. The human mind usually works for a single supreme object which we may call its motive; but it has at the same time other, even if lesser mo- tives. Ordinarily two motives have been assigned to Lincoln in the present case: the Senatorship and the Presidency. Let them both stand; but we place above both the motive to prevent Doug- las from dividing and thus destroying the new Republican organization as the prime condition of all future success over slavery. His whole plan of attack is to discredit Douglas as an anti-slavery leader, to breach the breacher's own doctrine, to countermine the underminer. To understand Lincoln at this time, we must understand his leading motives in the order of their influence. As already stated three stand out prominently, and their gradation may be set down as follows: GIGAXTOMACHIA. 421 1. To preserve the integrity of the Republican organization against the attempted division of it by Douglas. This was the chief object or motive of Lincoln from now on till 1860. 2. Second in order of strength, but still very powerful, was his wish for the Senatorship. But this he had to sacrifice to a mightier Design. 3. Least was his desire for the Presidency, though it was by no means absent. But he shrank from the outlook upon its I'esponsibility, with the South threatening disunion in case of the election of a Republican President. He said he was not fit for the office. Still this is just what another Judge than himself thinks he is fit for, and calls him. Lincoln hears the call, and, not with- out some inner questioning, obeys a decree which he must have felt to be imperative. After con- siderable importunity from his friends, he finally permits them to present his name to the Repub- lican Convention. As to the motives of Douglas, they seemingly ran in inverse order to those of Lincoln. Twice if not three times already Douglas had been a candi- date for the Presidency before the National Con- vention of his party. We have the right to think that the chief magistracy was still the highest ob- ject of his ambition. In fact this could not be disguised. But as the winning of the Presi- dency through his own party receded from his grasp, he wished in the second place to be Senator 422 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. again. Finally he hoped to make a division in the opposing party, in order to accomplish his lofty schemes. It was in this last purpose that he had to meet Lincoln at every fighting point, who on the whole foiled him of his prey. Besides its im- portant matters, this debate contains a lot of petty local and ephemeral stuff, which the reader must learn to separate and to throw aside. A great school for the people it is, who hear their fundamental law, their Constitution, discussed by the ablest exponents, and who are being prepared for changing it when the time is ripe. The battle of the Giants was really a prelimin- ary contest for the Presidency, whatever may have been the intentions of the combatants. Again we behold that peculiar play of counterparts which seemed to lurk in the destiny of these two antitypal characters. Each was a winner and a loser, but in opposite ways : Douglas won the im- mediate but lost the final prize, while Lincoln lost the immediate but won the final prize. It may be said too that each would have rather had the other's prize than his own; but they could not exchange. That was indeed forbidden by a Power over both, which has remanded each of the Giants to his special, place for bringing forth its end in the World's History. Such is verily the third Giant, far mightier than the other two, who are indeed but instruments in his colossal hand, and are working harmoniously with him in their mu- THE BREACH ER BREACHED. 423 tiially antithetic careers. So the Little and the Big Giants fight their battle to a finish on the prairie with a vast outlay of the spoken word; but over them the gathered people have caught glimpses of the colossal form of the third Giant directing the combats, allotting the victories and then awarding the guerdons of the modern Gigan- tomachia. VIII. The Breacher Breached. Already in the first Debate at Ottawa, Douglas began quizzing Lincoln, who answered his ques- tions at the second place of meeting, Freeport. Then Lincoln began in his turn quizzing Douglas, and propounded four interrogatories, upon which the essential principles of the contest pivoted. Lincoln's plan of battle in these assaults upon his cunning adversary was to prevent him from breach- ing the Republican party, by making a breach from several sides in the position of Douglas him- self. The great breacher of parties was compelled to swallow a dose of his own medicine, and a heavy one too, which made him at times show show signs of sickness. The result was that Douglas, having at first taken the offensive, with no little flourish of trumpets, was soon forced to the defensive largely, which did not suit so well his native pugnacity. The contradiction between the Dred Scott decision and Popular Sovereignty was the 424 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART SECOND. gap in which Lincohi planted himself firmly, and which he began to pry open wider and wider, with crowbar and pick, till everybody saw thi-ough it, in spite of Douglas's many shifty attempts to cover it over, and to repel his assailant. The most famous one of the four interrogatories to which a fifth was afterwards added by Lincoln, was the second, which ran thus: '^Can the people of a United States Territory, in any lawful way, against the wish of any citizen of the United States, exclude slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a State Constitution?" This presupposes the attitude of Douglas who upheld the Dred Scott decision which affirmed that neither Congress nor the loc^i legislature could exclude slavery from the Territories. Such was the supreme law of the land declared by its highest court; now the problem is. How can Douglas, in a Imofid way, get around the law to which he acknowledges implicit obedience, blaming Lincoln because the latter questions its constitutionality? For in some way he must circumvent that decision practically, if the people are going to exclude slavery. But let us hear the answer of Douglas: "In my opinion the people of a Territory can, by lawful means, exclude slavery from their limits prior to the formation of a State Constitution. * * * It matters not what the Supreme Court may here- after decide as to the abstract question whether THE B RE AC HER BREACHED. 425 slavery may or may not go into a Territory under the Constitution, the people have the right to introduce it or exclude it as they please." Thus Douglas makes a desperate straddle over the chasm which Lincohi has caused to yawn between Popular Sovereignty and the Dred Scott decision. He performs the extraordinary feat of showing how to thwart the highest law lawfully. He tells how the people of a Territory can disobey the Constitu- tion constitutionally, which they ought always to obey. Douglas tells also how this double self- undoing act can be done. The Territory, through "unfriendly legislation," can exclude slavery which it has no power to exclude according to the Sup- reme Court, though this Court is to be followed without the least questioning. "Slavery cannot exist an hour anywhere unless it is supported by local police regulations," whose validity depends on the territorial legislation which is thus para- mount to Judge Taney's decision, which decision, nevertheless, all legislators ought to obey uncon- ditionally, in fact, are sworn to obey. Such is the warring dualism in the position of Douglas, or rather in the man himself, in his spirit. For we cannot help thinking that he hokls his doctrine to be true in all its doubleness. And this must be grasped as the peculiar character of Douglas at the present time : he has growii to be a self-contradiction in his mental fibre, his very conviction has become double as his doctrine; 426 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. the breach is primarily within him, and must utter itself, yea, reahze itself, outside of him. So we name him during this epoch, the Breacher, the cleaver of political parties, both of his own party and of the opposite. There is no doubt that in this inner self-division he deeply represents his time and his nation. The Union itself we have already seen to be twofold, self-conflicting, self-contradictory. Douglas is, therefore, the typical character of the decade between 1850-GO, truly its greatest states- man. His doubleness, or we may say, his duplicity, is not merely personal, but national. On the con- trary there is a striking unity in Lincoln's character and doctrine, though he too has had to pass through his epoch of dualism, as we have already seen. And in his personal unity he bears the type, yea, the seed of the coming National unity, contrasting at the deepest point with his great antitype, Douglas. Now this breach not only in the doctrine but also in the character of his advcrsaiy, Lincoln well understood — he understood it all the better be- cause he had passed through a similar state of mind himself. But he had come out of it healed and unified anew, and his experienced eye could easily penetrate the dualism of Douglas as well as that of the Nation. In fact, Douglas himself both in his doctrine and in his very Ego, in his consciousness, was a vivid example of Lincoln's ''House divided against itself," and therein re- sembled the dual Nation as it existed at that time. THE BEE AC HER BE EACH ED. 427 Hence Douglas, in fighting for his dual territorial principle, was fighting for himself, yea, for his very Self. And maintaining the permanence of the dual Nation, he was maintaining his own perma- nence. But the prophecy of Lincoln, "You can't exist half,and half," holds good of Douglas himself and of his doctrine, as well as of the Nation. Lincoln's argument against Douglas might be summarized, "You can't exist half Dred Scott and half Popular Sovereignty." At this point es- pecially, the whole Lincoln enters the half-and-half Douglas and pries him open before the eyes of the gazing Folk-Soul, exposing his doubleness, and that of his doctrine, and it must be added, that of the Nation. But in spite of this triple layer of dualism in Douglas, he nevertheless reaches down to unity in the bed rock of his soul, which lies underneath all his double tendencies. In this debate over and over again he affirms the primacy of the Union. One strong-hearted passage we may cite from his Freeport speech: "Show me that it is my duty, in order to save the Union, to do a particular act, and I will do it if the Constitution does not prohibit it. I am not for the dissolution of the Union under any circumstances. I will pursue no course of conduct that will give just cause for the dissolution of the Union. The hope of the friends of freedom throughout the world rests upon the perpetuity of this Union." Douglas also feels that the Federal 428 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART SECOND. Union has not merely a national but a world- historical mission. Therein he and Lincoln are quite alike, and at this point they will come together hereafter, when that deepest rift, Secession makes its appearance. To be sm"e, Douglas, in true accord with his present consciousness, holds that the Union must still continue half-and-half, as it has continued so long in the past. Herein is the point at which he and Lincoln collide. And now, in order to understand Douglas com- pletely, we must reach down to the most obscure, but probably the deepest breach in his soul, that between his anti-slavery and pro-slavery strains. A\liich was he — one or the other, neither or both? Did not the great conflict of the Nation and the Age reflect itself in some little nook of his con- science underneath all his denunciation of aboli- tionism and all his dislike of negro equality and all his ambition to be President? We believe that it did, even if with strong protest and suppression. The moral question of the time lurks also in Douglas, though seldom allowed it to rise into the sunlight. Still it would escape now and then from its silent inner prison, and make itself heard on the outer air through his lips. Let us take this confession from his Ottawa speech: "I do not hold, because the negro is our inferior, that there- fore he ought to be a slave. By no means can such a conclusion be drawn from what I have said. On the contrary I hold that Humanity and Chris- THE BREACHER BREACHED. 42i) tianity both require that the negro shall have and enjoy every right, every privilege and every immunity consistent with the safety of the society in which he lives. On that point, I presume, there can be no diversity of opinion.''' On that point, then, Douglas declares his agreement with Lincoln and the Republicans. In this passage he clearly questions whether ''the negro ought to be a slave." Such we may deem to be his own conscience in the matter. But at once he draws the limit. Douglas declares that the Virginian or Kentuckian has a conscience as well as himself, and it permits slave- holding, which thus becomes the Southerner's right. Conscience is a purely individual matter, making what is wi'ong in one })lace right in another. " I hold that Illinois has a right to abolish and pro- hibit slavery as she did, and I hold that Kentucky has the same right to continue and protect slavery that Illinois had to abolish it." The Ohio River thus gets to be the demarcation between two wholly contradictory rights. Ikit we are interested in find- ing the real view of Douglas upon slavery. As he lives in Illinois, what would his conscience say about making it Slave-State? Says he, "We have settled the slavery question as far as we are concerned; we have prohibited it in Illinois forever; and in doing so, I think we have done wisely, and there • is no man in the State who would be more strenu- ous in his opposition to the introduction of slavery than I would." This is anti-slavery doctrine, and 430 ABRAHAM LINCOLN^PART SECOND. for Douglas rather decided. And we believe that the foregoing statement gives a glimpse of his inner personal conviction, usually not allowed to peep out. But mark the hmit again! He will not allow his Illinois conscience to cross the Mississippi River into the State of Missouri; yea, he will not even allow it to migrate into the Territory of Kansas, and to affirm its own existence there in its greatest struggle. I am anti-slavery for Illinois, but for every coming new State, ''I don't care." Such we may well deem the moral breach in the very soul of Douglas. Still we have to think that Douglas did not relish slavery, and declined to be a slave-holder under very tempting circumstances. So we interpret his refusal of his father-in-law's present of a Southern plantation with its slaves, even if a political motive may also be assigned. (See pre- ceding page 297). We have already expressed our belief that it was this act which made him sus- pected by the Southern oligarchy, and thus clouded his Presidential outlook at the start, as far back as 1847. So Douglas had a little quiet nook of anti- slavery conviction in h'is conscience, to which, we believe, he kept faithful. Still it was remarkably limited and unaggressive. If his neighbor chose to be a slave-holder, he had nothing to say. His conscience questioned whether a negro ought to be a slave, but if somebody else made him a slave, his conscience would never cry out against the act. THE BR E AC HER BREACHED. 431 And to a territory struggling to keep out slavery, he could say, "I don't care." Lincoln repeatedly challenges him to declare whether he thinks slavery right or wTong, but cannot wring a direct answer out of his silent conscience. Nevertheless, Douglas indirectly lets enough drop to evidence that for himself internally and even for his own State, he is anti-slavery, but for the Nation and its Territories he is not. He is half-and-half even in his conscience as regards slavery, and honestly so, we hold. This is the deep and at first implicit moral breach in his soul which Lincoln digs up and throws at him with startling effect. Thus Douglas has an anti-slavery conviction within a given boundary, within a kind of Mason and Dixon's line, but outside of that line he has not, at least he will not enforce it, will not affirm it, will not even mention it unless compelled. Truly his conscience has gotten double like the Nation itself, and thus in a manner may be said to represent the Nation. Lincoln, on the other hand, we must deem the man with a unified conscience on this subject, though he also has had to pass through a time of dualism, which we have noted in his epoch of Subsidence, and which has given him his deepest experience. Douglas, listening to Lincoln's seven speeches on the same stage, must have become aware, partially at least, ot his own moral half-and- halfness, of the contradiction In his own conscience. And Douglas, hearhig the Folk-Soul there in his 432 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. presence echo and re-echo back upon him in Oceanic waves of applause Lincoln's words, could not help feeling some faint intimation of the decree of the World-Spirit, which Lincoln was voicing in a kind of prophetic inspiration to the people, as he re-iterated that you, this Nation, cannot endure half slave and half free. And we may conceive Douglas, usually quite prosaic but rapt into a fantasy by the occasion, listening to an inner voice, also prophetic, which whispers to him: ''Douglas, this conscience of yours cannot endure half free and half slave — free on this side, slave over yonder; it must become all one thing." Now this whispered forecast of Douglas con- cerning Douglas, is it also marching towards fulfilment? Is that inner divided house of his, divided Hke the Nation, ever to become united, united like the Nation? One thing is certain: in the canvas of 1858, Douglas strongly, even passionately affirms the Double Nation, and along with this goes his own doubleness and self-contra- diction, which Lincoln does not fail to make apparent even to Douglas himself. \^ery deeply has Lincoln breached him in his party, in his doc- trine, and even in his own conscience, despite his furious resistance. And as he is a man of brains, he must be getting aware that in his own case as well as that of the Nation, '' a House divided against itself cannot stand." THE FREEPORT DOCTRINE. ^33 IX. The Freeport Doctrine. From these soul-stretching foresights and in- sights pertaining to Douglas, we must come back to a much-mooted historic question in reference to his so-called Freeport doctrine. This was con- tained in his answer to Lincoln's second interroga- tory, both of which have been already quoted in full length on a preceding page. In substance Douglas declares that the people of a Territory can legally exclude slavery, in spite of any 'decision of the Supreme Court "on the abstract question whether slavery may or may not go into a Territory under the Constitution." This Freeport answer of Douglas was picked up by the newspapers and bruited all over the South with hostile comment. The Administration perse- cuted him and his supporters, using all its patron- age to defeat his election. Still he held the rank- and-file of his party in Illinois and in the North. He had, therefore, to fight two armies, which other- wise were totally opposite, as opposite as the two causes of freedom and slavery. A valiant cham- pion he showed himself with that wonderful power of breaching his foes. The foregoing answer to Lincoln's second question became known in history as his Freeport doctrine, and is often supposed to have gained him the Senatorship from Lincoln, but to have lost him the Presidency to Lincoln. 28 434 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Both these suppositions we believe to be incor- rect. In the first place, Douglas was far stronger with the people of Illinois when he opened the campaign than when he closed it after a four months' fight. There is little doubt that if the election had been held on the 9th of July, when he made his first speech at Chicago amid approval and applause well-nigh universal, he would have car- ried the State overwhelmingly. That which the public then saw with an almost unanimous shout of approbation was his course on the Lecompton Constitution and the English bill, and Douglas did not fail to keep this part of his record in the eye of the people. But when he and Lincoln grappled, he began to lose, and this loss continued till the day of election, which gave Lincoln a slight ma- jority, though Douglas became Senator. In fact, just that was Lincoln's remarkable victory: he unified and strengthened his party against the grand breacher, Douglas, whose position he ef- fectually breached in turn. Still less correctly can it be said that Douglas lost the Presidency through his Freeport doctrine by causing the alienation of the South. The South was already alienated from him, and had through its leaders so said; as far as it was concerned, he had already lost the Presidency, and both sides recognized the fact. And Douglas had affirmed the same doctrine repeatedly before he ever heard that Freeport c|uestion of Lincoln. His first word THE FREEPORT DOCTRINE. 435 of reply is true: "Mr. Lincoln knew that I had answered that question over and over again." Of course Lincoln knew it, and knew it well, and said so in a private letter of the time. But Lincoln also knew that people did not yet understand the contradiction between such a doctrine and the Dred Scott decision which Douglas also supported. The supreme motive of Lincoln in this second ques- tion was to get the chance to breach Douglas and to hold him up as breached before the whole world. Particularly the wise men of the East, who had a tendency to veer off to Douglasism, notably Greeley, Wilson, Burlingame, and probably Sew- ard for a time, might see the inherent nature of what they were doing. Moreover this became the ground-theme of Lincoln throughout all the rest of the debates: namely, the self-devouring an- tinomy between the two laws, that of the Supreme Court and that of Popular Sovereignty with its Territorial legislation. We repeat that the deepest object of Lincoln was to show the breacher breached — his two leading tenets being rent asvmder and set against each other in their contradiction. The prominence given by the South and the Ad- ministration to the Freeport doctrine of Douglas caused a number of stories to start and play about Lincoln and his motives. It is said that his friends at a private meeting tried to dissuade him from presenting the question, crying in chorus: "If you do, you will never be Senator." The ground for 4.36 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. such an inference seems to-day so flimsy that the whole affair has been branded as fabulous. More, over this meeting has aroused suspicion by being reported at so many different places: at Dixon, Mendota, Freeport, on a railroad train. Lincoln probably did meet his friends in each locality that he passed through, and sometimes he may have read his questions, and somebody may have ob- jected. Who blew the colossal bubble, inflating some little meeting of local politicians with a vast historical significance? Doubtless some news- paper reporter full of self-importance who was present; indications point to Joseph Medill, of Chicago, as the magician who could make an ocean of lather out of a pin-head of soap. Lincoln's answer to some protester has become historical, whatever be its origin: "I am after larger game; the battle of 18G0 is worth a hundred of this." The utterance is somewhat oracular, and most writers have at once taken for granted that Lincoln had already in mind the Presidency. But his repeated later declaration was that he did not deem himself fit to be President, and also that he would rather have the Senatorship than the Presidency. To our mind, the larger game to which Lincoln covertly alludes is what has already been given as his leading motive : to prevent Doug- las from breaching the Republican forces, first in Illinois and then in the Eastern States, where the danger was greatest. The chief Republican lead- THE FREEPORT DOCTRINE. 437 ers in the East were either silent or had oi)enly advised Lincohi and his friends to re-elect Douglas. Here is what Lincoln thought of that policy : " Had we followed the advice, there would now be no Republican party in Illinois, and none to speak of anywhere else." This was spoken the year after- w^ards and gives a glimpse of Lincoln's deepest motive in the campaign for Senatorship, even though he strongly wished to be Senator, and must at times have thought of the possibility of his be- coming President of the United States. The three stratified motives already indicated we must not leave out of mind ; moreover, we should recall that Lincoln was well aware not only of his vast seen audience, but also of his far vaster unseen one, embracing State and Nation, by means of the re- ports in the newspapers; yea, it was, as he says, a drama acted "to some extent in the face of the World," and, it may be added, of the World's His- tory. Both Lincoln and Douglas early divined each other's plan of battle. Already at Freeport each amusingly charges the other with the design of breaching the opposite party. Says Douglas: "I know Mr. Lincoln's object: he wants to divide the Democratic party in order that he may defeat me and get to the Senate." Lincoln declares in his re- joinder: 'Til tell you what the Judge is afraid of. He is afraid we'll all pull together. This is what alarms him more than anything else. For my 438 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. part, I tlo liope that all of us, entertaining a com- mon sentiment in opposition to what appears to us a design to nationalize and perpetuate slavery, will waive minor differences which either belong to the dead past or the distant future, and all pull together in this struggle." Douglas then has not breached the Republican party in Illinois, what- ever may have been his success in the East. Again Lincoln says in the same debate: "His hope rested on the idea of enlisting the great ' Black Re- publican' party, and making it the tail of his new kite." That was in Congress when he d^enounced the Lecompton fraud and even voted against the English bill. Now behold the change brought about chiefly by Lincoln's breaching the breacher. "But the Judge's eye is farther South now. Then it was very peculiarly and decidedly North." Who turned him around and made him face Southward again, or perchance both ways in his double doc- trine? That was the deed of the Big Giant, in which he shows himself truly gigantic. Such was Lincoln's famous second Freeport inter- rogatory with the reply of Douglas, the latter caus- ing such a thunderous detonation in the South that many loud echoes rolled thence backward to the North. One of these echoes was the factitious importance, if not quite fictitious, of that meeting of Lincoln's friends, urging him not to ask the question. The truth is that certain conservative friends of his were always opposing each step he THE FREEPORT DOCTRINE. 439 took in advance of them. How bitterly they con- demned, according to Hcrndon and Lamon, his grand Prelude concerning "the House divided against itself!" He had learned to take his own counsel, he must march to the front as leader, and soon the rest would follow. Already the World- Spirit was whispering to him its supreme behest, and he could not listen to the petty cavils of small politicians without defaulting his own destiny. So in these days we behold Lincoln going straight ahead and delivering his message, verijy world- historical. If the second interrogatory produced its chief result in the South, the third one of the same Free- port series was far more effective in the North. In fact Lincoln evidently thought it the most im- portant of all these questions, if we may judge from the number of times in which he pressed it directly upon his adversary or repeated its argu- ment. Here it is: "If the Supreme Court of the United States shall decide that States cannot ex- clude slavery from their limits, are you in favor of acquiescing in, adopting, and following such de- cision as a rule of political action?" The question gave Lincoln the opportunity to drive home to his audience, both Republican and Democratic: Are you ready to see Illinois made a slave-State by a new Dred Scott decision? More- over, Douglas does not directly answer the ques- tion, declaring it to be absurd and an imputation 440 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. upon the Supreme Court, and an attempt "to destroy public confidence in the highest judicial tribunal on earth." Still, his answer, if it means anything, means his opposition to such a decision. Really Douglas is again breached in his view of the Supreme Court, by Lincoln, as he was before breached in his Popular Sovereignty. Very im- pressive rose Lincoln's eloquence upon this theme, especially at Galesburg; he made the Folk-Soul shiver at the outlook of slavery legalized in Illinois by a fresh decree of Judge Taney. Not only possible but probable was such a result, in case of a Democratic Presidential victory; in fact, the Dred Scott decision, as the first step, was far harder to take than this second step would be. Lincoln's party obtained a majority of nearly 4,000 over Douglas in a Northern State which had voted for Buchanan two years before. The man who could do that showed himself the available candidate for the coming Presidency. Seward certainly could not have done it. Lincoln had prevented the breaching of his party, had rallied it around himself, and had brought it to say in thousandfold chorus with himself: This nation cannot endure half slave and half free. Such was his great victory, though he had lost the Senator- ship through hold-over members of the State Legis- lature, and through an unfair, or rather outgrown, apportionment. Lincoln was aware that he had delivered a great message. In a private letter he OUTSIDE THE STATE. 441 writes a few days after the election: ''I am glad I made the late race. It gave me a hearing on the great and durable question of the age, which I would have had in no other way. * * * j believe I have made some marks which will tell for the cause of civil liberty long after I am gone." It may be said that he has proclaimed the evangel of the time, voicing the World-Spirit to the Folk-Soul. He has uttered the culminating word of the Lincoln- Douglas sexennium. From all directions echoes begin to sound back to him of the great deed he has done, with implorations for help. The cry is : Come to us and repeat your Illinois work ; we have the same diabolic malady here which you have cast out there; come and help us, in the name of the Lord ! So Lincoln has to buckle on his armor again and set out on a much longer march, nothing less than the circuit of the entire free North from East to West. X. Outside the State. Again Lincoln is to nationalize himself, but not by going as Senator to the Capital. Once he went thither as Representative, and was dualized thereby so deeply that he sank down into his long Subsidence. Then he, a supporter of the Wilmot Proviso in favor of excluding slavery from the territories, campaigned the North-Easterxi States for the Whig party which tramjjled ui)oii 442 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. the Proviso. But now he goes from the Ilhno;? Capital to the same North-Easteni States a uni- fied Abraham Lincohi, and with a unified party back of him; yea it may be said, that he having unified himself out of his own dualism, has done the same for his party — the pivotal deed of uni- fying it against the arch-breacher of parties, Douglas. That was really the great and lasting victory won by him in the Battle of the Giants recently fought upon the prairies. At once that deed began to be recognized in its true bearing throughout the North, and in the South too. A friend compared him to Byron, who said that he awoke one morning and found himself famous. The epochal man had arisen, and the People began to see his outlines, and to call for him everywhere. His doctrine in regard to the restriction of slavery was not new; it hp.,d been already embodied in the Republican plat- form of 1856. But the real crisis was the scission which Douglas was producing in the anti-slavery ranks, especially of the East. And now steps forth the man of the hour, out of the dark almost, and puts himself right into the breach of the Ti- tanic party-splitter in the latter's own home. Douglas indeed gets back to the Senate, but Lin- coln consolidates and unifies his party as never before, carrying with him a greater number of his State's voters than his opponent, though not quite a majority of the total vote. OUTSIDE THE STATE. 443 Soon from every point of the horizon voices begin to float into Lincohi's retirement at Spring- field : Will you not help lis do in our State what you have done in yours — Douglasism is breaching the party here too. Out of the many calls Lin- coln had to make a selection. Evidently with design he chose four localities in which he mig'it well think his presence to be most needed — two in the new States (West) and two in the old (East). These we may mention in chronological order, all of these visits occurring in the period from autumn 1859 to spring 1860. 1 Ohio. Douglas had already made a speech in Columbus a little while before the advent of Lin- coln, who was ever ready to pursue his antagonist over the whole country, as he did in Illinois. Thus the contest was getting transferred beyond the border of their State. Lincoln's speech at Co- lumbus largely repeated his former arguments against Douglas. But we see the chief design of the orator in his warning to the Ohioans: ''the most imminent danger that threatens that purpose," namely the purpose of the Republican party in re- stricting slavery "is that insidious Douglas Popular Sovereignty. That is the miner and the sapper,^' whose aim is to undermine and thus breach the Re- publican organization. It seeks to do this primarily by debauching public sentiment with an indiffer- ence to slavery. Its principle is "that if one man chooses to make a slave of the other man, neither 444 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND that other man nor anybody else has a right to object." Thus the Free-States are being made ready for a universal slave code, and for the na- tionalizing of slavery. Such is the effect of that insidious "I don't care" of Douglas, ''the miner and the sapper" of our party. Lincoln also takes a tilt at the history of Popular Sovereignty as set forth in the recent magazine article of Douglas — a subject which he will investigate more fully for his later Cooper Institute speech. Note too that keen thrust into character: "He, Douglas, is so put U]) by nature that a lash upon his back would hurt him, but a lash upon anybody else's back would not hurt him." Interesting is the fact that Lincoln now gets in Columbus a publisher for his speeches and those of Douglas in the great Debate. The book was cir- culated by the Republican Committee as a cam- paign document for the fall elections, and three large editions were sold directly to the public. Already in Springfield Lincoln had sought to in- duce a publisher to take hold of the work, but without success. To-day, after half a century, it has become a kind of political Folk-Book, speaking as none other of the kind to the American People. . The next day (September 17th) Lincoln went to Cincinnati and there matle a speech. He gave it a new turn by transforming it into an ironical address to the Kentuckians across the Ohio river in favor of Douglas. Somebody in the audience OUTSIDE THE STATE. 445 cried out: Speak to Ohio men and not to Ken- tiickians. Really, however, he was speaking to Ohio men and showing them in this indirect way that Douglas was secretly supporting the Southern view, here represented by Kentuckians, and that these ought to favor him for the Presidency, as a number of their leading men had urged his elec- tion to the Scnatorship instead of Lincoln. The ii'ony brings out strongly what Lincoln deemed the insidious method of Douglas. We see that Lincoln strives to keep the Repub- lican party on institutional lines, and thus to unite all anti-slavery men upon the one supreme question. The Ohio Republican Convention had called for the repeal of the Fugitive Slave Law, which would ''utterly overwhelm us in Illinois with the charge of enmity to the Constitution itself," for it would alienate ''many good men sincerely opposed to slavery," yet adhering to the Constitution. Such a plank should by all means "be kept out of our National Convention" of 18G0, and it was. (Works I., pp. 53G, 537). Then Kansas with all her Free-Stateism leans de- cidedly to the Popular Sovereignty of Douglas "who is the most dangerous enemy of liberty, be- cause the most insidious one." So Lincoln is off for Kafisas next, which needs some elevation of its individual cause into a universal principle. 2 Kansas. The people whose conflict compelled the birth of the Republican party, Lincoln must 446 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. see and address. Having received an invitation, he sets out for that still debatable land and makes quite a little campaign through its towns in De- cember, 1859. There was no election for public officers at stake, as Kansas was still a territory. But the strange fact that Kansas was a strong- hold of Douglas Democracy lured Lincoln to that epoch-turning borderland. For a majority of the fighting Free-State men of Kansas had always been and were undoubtedly still Democrats and not Republicans. The Popular Sovereignty of Douglas appealed mightily to these hard-fisted, self-reliant frontiersmen. This fact which seems so incredible at present, was known to Lincoln, who ]Drobably said to himself on receiving the in- vitation: ''There in that new country I think I can do a little missionary work," and started off. Moreover the rupture of Douglas with his own National Administration had been on account of free Kansas. Then he had recently voted against the English bill with its attempt to bribe the Kansans into accepting the Lccompton Constitu- tion — an act of Doug'as very popular in Kansas and elsewhere. So Lincoln resolves to attack this newest fortress of Douglasism. Primarily he would dwell upon the Douglas doctrine of imhfference : 'T don't care whether slavery is voted up or down in Kansas" — so Douglas had said dozens of times. But these hardy Free-State men, though Democrats, did OUTSIDE THE STATE. 447 care for just that before anything else in the world, having risked their lives for years in de- fense of Free-Stateism. And now before them stood the man who had fought their battle in Illinois against Douglas in person — and this man did care and so did his party. There is little doubt that many a Kansas Free-State Democrat concluded to vote with the friends of his cause henceforth. Only a few random jottings of Lincoln's ad- dresses in Kansas have been preserved. (See Lin- coln's Works by Nicolay & Hay, I. 585). From these we catch his theme: ''the insidious Douglas popular sovereignty" which is undermining our own party, and thus is getting rid of the sole op- position to "a Congressional slave-code for the Territories, and the revival of the African slave- trade, and a second Dred Scott decision" making slavery legal in every Free-State of the Union. To be sure these last dangers are not yet immi- nent, but when Douglasism has sapped the con- viction that slavery is wrong, they will appear, and there will be no organized party to resist them. Such was the thought which in these days Lincoln kept brooding over and repeating in his speeches, with many a forewarning against the dark and tlevious subterranean "sapper and miner." 3. New York. Of course Lincoln must go to the Old States of the North-East, chief seat of the 448 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. Republican defection to Douglas, who had actu- ally breached the anti-slavery party there, to the serious injury of Lincoln in his battle with Douglas for the Senatorship. Very gratifying was the in- vitation from New York City to deliver a political address, which took place at Cooper Institute, February 27, 1860, and is often said to have been the chief influence in getting Lincoln nominated for the Presidency a few months later. Naturally the argument of the speech is directed against Douglas, who, in his recent trend, had sought to show that "our Fathers when they framcnl the Government under which we live, un- derstood this question just as well, and even l^et- ter, than we do now," and really were the first upholders and ]3romulgators of Popular Sov- ereignty. This argument was adjusted to the East, where the Fathers ''once lived and did their work, and where the old transmitted order had a more powerful hold than in the West, which could l^oast of no such history. Douglasism, instead of originating with the Nicholson letter of General Cass in 1848, was now claimed to be as old as the Constitution itself, if not older, according to the Harper Magazine article of Douglas. So the Little Giant, hitherto the champion of the new States, began to appeal to the conservative and tradi- tional sentiment of the old States in favor of his doctrine, and thus to widen the breach in the Re- publican party. But again Lincoln meets him at OUTSIDE THE STATE. '449 his chosen point and overwhehiis him so com- pletely that the Eastern rent begins then and there to vanish, even Greeley's Tribune printing next day Lincoln's speech in full and saying that "no man ever before made such an impression on his first appeal to a New York audience." Thus Lin- coln unmasked that new historic pretence of Douglas, and at the same time far surpassed him in flattering indirectly the New Yorkers and East- erners generally as the descendants of "the Fathers" who had repeatedly sought through na- tional legislation to keep slavery out of the terri- tories. The real underlying motive of Lincoln, however, in going to New York, was not to make a speech proving that "the Fathers" were Lincolnites in- stead of Douglasites, but to heal that very serious Eastern breach in the Republican party. We read in his Kansas jottings: "Last year we Repub- licans in Illinois were advised by numerous and respectable outsiders to re-elect Douglas to the Senate by our votes," and thereby "advance our principles by supporting men who oppose our principles." Such was the strong exhortation coming to him out of the East. "Had we followed the advice, there would he now no Repuhlican party in Illinois, and none to speak of anywhere else." Here Lincoln declares the real victory won in his conflict with Douglas: the integrity of the Repub- lican party. He continues: "True, Douglas is 29 450 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. back in the Senate in spite of us, but we are clear of him and his principles, and we are uncrippled and ready to fight him and them straight along" to the end. These statements are very important as giving Lincoln's view of real stake in the Illinois battle. In his Cincinnati speech he alluded to the "three or four very distinguished men of the most extreme anti-slavery views of any men in the Republican party" who favored the re-election of Douglas to the Senate, so wonderful was the latter's "power of doing what would seem to be impossible." The deepest fact of the Cooper In- stitute speech was that Lincoln went to the East and threw himself into the worst breach that Douglas had made in the Republican party, com- pletely triumphing over the insidious "sapper and miner." His speech was great, but far greater was his deed, for this was what showed his leader- ship — a fact which began to dawn even upon the "Wise Men of the East." 4. Neio England. From New York Lincoln thought he would run over and see his boy Bob, who was going to school at an Eastern acad- emy. Wherever he went, the man who had breached the breacher Douglas was called on for a speech. What he said in most cases has not come down, but there is no doul3t that he overflowed with his dominating theme at this time — "that insidious Douglas Popular Sovereignty." Still there seems to have been in his remarks some slight ad- OUTSIDE THE STATE. 4.51 justment to the locality. New England did not much need to be lectured to on Anti-slaveryism ; her Unionism was her weak spot and had been since the Embargo. But Lincoln's devotion to the Union lay deeper than even his hostility to slavery, as he afterwards showetl and said when President. Some of his remarks while in Connect- icut have been preserved (see Works, I., pp. 613- 631) ; it is evident that he took occasion to empha- size that "John Brown was not a Republican." In this way he could indirectly touch upon New England's tendency to John-Brownism. Her most famous literary men and philosophers had hero- ized the old Puritan by his deed and death at Har- per's Ferry, and in some instances had quite deified him, regarding him as ''the new Christ." That was not the view of Lincoln, whose war upon slavery was to be in accord with Law and Consti- tution. So Lincoln goes the round of the Northern States from the extreme East to the extreme West, making himself truly a national man, even if he was excluded from the South. His great ob- ject was to preserve the integrity of his political party in the rest of the Free-States as he had pre- served it in Illinois, against Douglasism. Hence he is seen chiefly counter-mining "the sapper and miner," breaching the furious demonic breacher of all political i)arties of the time, Douglas, who cleft his own party in twain, and tried to cleave 452 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. the Republican party. But he was met, halted, and breached in turn by Lincoln, who has thus shown himself the towering champion of tlie com- ing issue before the whole country. And tlic tria^ of this issue is not distant. When Lincoln reaches home in Springfield, the Presidential year of 1860 is considerably advancetl; in a few months the nominations of both parties for the chief magis- tracy of the Nation must be made, and then comes the most important and exciting canvas ever witnessed in this country. Who are the men supereminent as leaders? XI. Lincoln, Douglas, Seward. These are the three men who at this time are very generally spoken of as the national candidates for the Presidency ; othcn- candidates apjjear rela- tively local. The first noteworthy fact is that they are all from the North, which seems at ]3resent to be producing the greatest statesmen What has brought about the marked change fron. the beginning of the government when the South furnished the leading public men, and ruled the country? Nothing is more remarkable during the Civil War than the inadequacy of Southern states- manship and the excellence of Soutl>ern soldier ship. This fact we must put together with the LINCOLN, DOUGLAS, SEWARD. 453 other fact that the greatest statesman of the North, Lincohi, was a native Southerner, and many of his most important advisers were either born in the South or of Southern extraction. It looks as if the old Virginia statesmanship had also gone with the stream of migration into the free North-West, especially after it became manifest that emancipation had stopped its course south- ward permanently at Mason and Dixon's line. In fact one may well think that if Washington, Jef- ferson and Marshall had been young men starting in life about 1820-30, they would all, with their well-known views on slaver}', have made a push for one of the new Free-States north of the Ohio river, as did thousands upon thousands of their fellow- citizens from Maryland, Virginia and even North Carolina. Lincoln's political genealogy goes back to Virginia even more decisively than his physical descent from grandfather Abraham Lincoln of Rockingham county. But at j^resent there is no Virginia statesman, no Southern statesman spoken of for the Presidency; Lincoln is the only South- erner who has any chance of nomination and election, and the South is almost unanimous against him, her greatest son since Washington. That ought to have given her some food for reflec- tion even in the hot passionate days of 1858-GO, before his full supremacy had manifested itself. The wonderful gift of Virginia political leadership had migrated to the Western Free-States where it 454 ABRAHAM LINCOLN^PART SECOND had organized the North on institutional lines agaiast the extension of slavery. At the same time it should be observed that not every portion of the North has been able to bi'ing forth Presidents. In New England, Presidential timber will not grow since the Civil War, doubt- less for a good reason, or rather for two good rea- sons, an external and internal. The Republican party once tried to break this rule, to its cost. Equally certain is it that no Presidential tree has ever yet come from the vast aspiring forests west of the Mississippi. The Democratic party has de- fied this rule more than once, to its disaster. The Slave-States saw their last Chief Magistrate disap- pear at the death of Taylor, with the exception of his Accidency, Andy Johnson. East of the Hud- son, south of the Ohio, west of the Mississippi, a President has not grown in the last fifty years. New England and the South, not sympathetic on many points, can heartily join in the common ex- ecration of this peculiar political law, stronger than any enactment, which excludes both from the highest office in the land with more potency than if they had been disfranchised by a clause of the Constitution of the United States, for this can be gotten at and repealed. The young West can be more serene, for its chance is probably coming, though not yet arrived by any means. The belt of Presidential timber, accordingly, extends from New York to Ohio, to which Indiana and Illinois LINCOLN, DOUGLAS SEWARD. 455 are to I30 added, skipping Pennsylvania, which seems to have exhausted itself in producing James Buchanan, the weakest Executive the country ever had, so that it cannot even be persuaded to cull another sample from that State. With the coming of the new order, this new adjustment of the sources of our Presidents takes place, giving a complete monopoly of them to four States of the Union, indeed almost to two of these States, New York and Ohio. Meanwhile the rest of the Commonwealths, forty and more, are standing in a kind of ring around this political game, looking at it and even sharing in it with wonder at the secret machinery. Now the foregoing Presidential see-saw between the East and the West, between the Hudson and the Mississippi, begins to show itself in 1858-GO, when Lincoln and Douglas of Illinois, and Seward of New York, loom up as the leading candidates for the Presidency, with some mention of two Ohio men, Chase and M'Lean. And that see-saw has been going on ever since uj) to the present year (1908). The political contest between Douglas and Lin- coln has been already dwelt upon : the one repre- sents the perpetuity of the Dual Union (a contra- diction in itself by the way), and the other repre- sents that dualism overcome and harmonized into a new unity and Union. But how about Seward, belonging to the old Free-States of the North-East, 456 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. and also an anti-slavery man and a Republican? The fact must be confessed that Seward is as deeply dualized as Douglas, though in a different way. He has proclaimed the Higher Law of the individual conscience as paramount to the Enacted Law ; yet he is a member of the supreme law-mak- ing body of the land, and has in such capacity taken the oath to obey the Constitution of the United States. Lincoln always kept clear of that antinomy, though he knew it well. Again, Sew- ard has entangled himself in a similar contradic- tion over the Fugitive Slave Law, into which clash Lincoln took great care not to fall. But the most famous statement of Seward is the "irre- pressible conflict" alluded to already; says he in his Rochester speech, "the two systems of labor are more than incongruous, they are incompati- ble," and produce "an irrepressible conflict be- tween opposing forces, and it means that the United States must and will, sooner or later, be- come either entirely a slave-holding nation or en- tirely a free-labor nation." This is the same as Lincoln's "it must become all one thing or all the other." Very significant in grasping Seward's character is his criticism of the great Compromises (same s]:)eech): "It is the failure to apprehend this great truth that induces so many unsuccessful attempts at final compromise between the Slave- States and the Free-States, and it is the existence of this great fact that renders all such pretended LIXCOLX, DOUGLAS, SEWARD. 457 compromises when made, vain and ephemeral." Such is Seward, the man of theory, and unques- tionably he sees the truth with that keen dia^ lectical intellect of his. But who could have be- lieved that when it comes to the test of action, Seward will turn out the greatest compromiser known to American History? In 1860, after his party's victory, he is ready to throw it away in a compromise between the Slave-States and the Free-States, between which he had declared all compromise to be 'S'ain and ephemeral." Herein Lincoln is again the corrective, who forbade ex- plicitly any compromise on "the slavery question as regards the territories. Compared to the imicr unity of Lincoln, Seward is deeply dual and self-contradictory; he, too, has never had that pivotal personal experience of un- folding out of the Double Nation, such as we saw Lincoln getting in the time of his Subsidence. This is one reason why we are inclined to think that Seward's "irrepressible conflict" was really a repetition, an Eastern echo of Lincoln's Prelude spoken s(>veral months before. That utterance of Seward could never have si)rung from the long but character-making wrestle of the spirit through which we have seen Lincoln passing in a kind of Purgatorial discipline. Out of his soul's agony, we have to think, rose his intense conviction that this Nation can no longer (>xist as it has hitherto existed — half-slave and half-free. Seward utterec 458 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND the same principle, but it had never been wrought over into the innermost fibre of his pohtical faith, for he could abandon it too easily and compromise it away too readily. Seward, the anti-slavery orator, declaimed one thing; Seward, the practical statesman, acted, or was ready to act, another thing. That could not be said of Lincoln, concilia- tory as he was on many points. In the deepest sense, therefore, Lincoln was a fitter man for the Presidency than Seward — a fact which time will strikingly confirm. Seward, we repeat, was as profoundly dual as Douglas, who^ both in theory and practice, clung to the Double Nation. But Seward in theory declared its coming unity, while in practice he would perpetuate its duality. To the Folk-Soul the problem roused by the Fugitive Slave Law was: Shall I obey Con- science or the Constitution? Seward's word was: Obey Conscience, the Higher Law; but Seward's deed was : Obey the Enacted Law and follow the Constitution. Such a man cannot be the leader in the grand crisis of the Nation, with that chasm between his word and his deed ; he cannot be the executor of the World-Spirit, whose decree, even if he hears it, he is unable to carry out. Still Seward is a very important man of the time. With his learning, his long experience in public life, his hold on a large following, his gift of rhetorical utterance and his unusual dialectical skill, he will be an indispensable instrument when LINCOLN, DOUGLAS, SEWARD. 459 guided by Lincoln, whose deficiencies are, on many points, covered by Seward. Such are the three towering individuahties of the time, one of whom has to be leader in the ap- proaching crisis. It is Lincoln who harmonizes most completely within himself the moral and the institutional elements in their bitter collision over the slavery question. With Seward and Douglas it is one or the other, though in opposite ways; with Lincoln it is both, each concordant and co- operant with the other. And the People must have both these elements or perish; neither is to suppress the other in its rightful sphere; both belong to the one complete process of the individual soul and of the Folk-Soul. Lincoln preserved and harmonized, both the institutional and moral ele- ments, as far as was possible in that time of their strifeful antagonism. For this reason it may be said that he reflected in his own soul the deepest need and aspiration of the Folk-Soul, which did not fail to take him as the best representative of what was best in itself, when it had found him out. He was, therefore, the synthesis of and over both Seward and Douglas in the one supreme matter of the time, though these two statesmen possessed other great talents and accomplishments to which Lincoln could not and did not lay any claim. 460 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. XII. The Political Year I860. Fuller of politics than any other year of our his- tory was 1860. There was a very general pre- sentiment of the coming conflict, and many people, though by no means all, began to align themselves. All over the South was heard the ominous cry: If a Republican is elected President, we shall dis- solve the Union. Necessarily the thinking men in the North began asking themselves, What then? But the answer was seldom forthcoming; the idea of civil war was shocking, and the problem re- mained unsolved. Still, the discjuieting question was ever present, and kept the popular mind agi- tated with surmises, and busied with interrogations about matters of deepest national consequence. For the deepest rift in the Nation, the dissolu- tion of the Union, has actually begim to yawn the whole length of Mason and Dixon's line, and the people on both sides are ranged along the edges looking into the dark abyss and trying in vain to see the bottom. The Folk-Soul of the North has finally concluded that there shall be no more Slave- States; both Northern parties practically reach that same end, though in different ways. But the South is getting ready to refuse any such limitation put upon her State-producing power and to vindi- cate what she deems her right, even at the point of the sword, if necessary. THE POLITICAL YRAR 1860. 461 Very important becomes the attitude of Douglas in this conflict. He is the mediatorial element between North and South, if there be any media- tion possible. He would build a kind of bridge over the gaping chasm between the two sections. No moral objection to slavery stands in his path; he would permit more Slave-States if the people of the Territories voted that way; but if not, the Free-State must come in. The Southerners, how- ever, declare that their slave property must be protected in the Territories like any other property, by the national Congress or Judiciary; while the Republicans maintain that slavery must be ex- cluded from the Territories by Congressional enactment. Both the extremes in the North and in the South are at one in requiring the central government at Washington to determine the ques- tion, but Douglas hands it over to the people of the Territories — which method satisfies neither of the other parties. Both of these are agreed that the Nation must be productive of Free-States or of each sort; Douglas would evade this problem as national, and make it local and territorial. But the World-Spirit is calling for the decision from the Nation, and he also will soon have to take one side or the other, his own standpoint being swal- lowed up in the deeper problem. Which side will he take with his vast influence? For it will have to be acknowledged that at this moment Douglas wields a mightier personal influ- 462 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. ence than any other man in America. One can think that the great brcacher may })ossibly be ready in the heat of conflict to carry his breach to the final outcome in the chvision of the Nation itself. But no! not the Union will he touch; at that point he draws unswervingly the line. He will breach a political party, his own and that of his antagonists, if he can; but he will not breach his country. He is, at "bottom, an institutional man; this we have always seen and declared of him from the beginning. And now he starts to pass out of his breaching period; he will take his last stand against the attempt of Jefferson Davis and others to breach the Union. The Democratic Convention, which was to nomi- nate a candidate for the Presidency, met at Charles- ton, South Carolina, April 23, 'i860, and began a process of inner self-division which symbolized the total Nation and prefigured what was soon to take place in reality. A Douglas platform was adoi)ted by a majority of the delegates, against the hot pro- test of the Southern minority, whereupon the whole tier of Cotton States, from South Carolina to Texas, including Arkansas, seceded from the Convention. But the nominee required two-thirds of the delegates, and so many Douglas could not obtain, though he had the decided majority. The result was an adjournment to meet at Baltimore on June 18th; but from this second convention there was a second secession of Southern States, chiefly THE POLITICAL YEAR 1860. 463 the middle tier. The seceders from the Conven- tion, who are to become the secessionists from the Union, meet together and nominate their candi- date, Breckinridge. Douglas is the nominee of the regular Convention, though after a double secession, which is not only a foreshadowing but an actual pre-enactment of the course of these Southern States after the election of Lincoln. The lower tier will secede first, and then after some months the second tier, with Virginia. Thus Douglas has completely breached his own political party, which we must regard as his su- preme historical function in the transitional period between 1850 and 1860. He was the most promi- nent, yea, the greatest statesman of the decennium, and his mighty negative act was the disruption of his own, the slavery-supporting, party, from which act flowed indirectly the Civil War, the reconstruc- tion of the Union, with the elimination of slavery. We have already noted this breaching trend of Douglas in the national Democratic Convention of 1852. But it burst forth with all its power in the Repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and was con- tinued till its final culmination in the national Democratic Convention of 1860. Let us now pass to his rival, Lincoln, who has likewise become a candidate for the Presidency, rather unwillingly, it would seem, or perchance with an unwilling willingness. His statement in a letter to Galloway (July 28, 1859) cannot be set 464 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. down to mere modesty: "I must say I do not think myself fit for the Presidency." Ah'cady far- sighted men outside of Illinois had begun to see in him the coming man. At a later date (December 9, 1859) in a letter to Judd he declares: "You know I am pledged not to enter a struggle with him [Senator Trumbull] for the seat in the Senate now occupied by him ; and yet / would rather have a full term in the Senate than in the Presidency." Such was Lincoln's view of himself not six months before his nomination to the Presidency. But the Gods have repeatedly forbidden him the Senator- ship, and again have blocked the way to that posi- tion in the future. Only one road lies open to him, and always seems to be getting more and more free of obstacles. Friends from all (juarters begin nudging him, saying: Enter, the track is clear. Highly probable is the conjecture that he had his inner struggle over the decision; but at last he must have heard the imperative call to him- self and to himself alone. Looking backwards through nearly half a cen- tury, we can see that no other choice was in reason possible. Seward was his only important com- petitor; but Seward had been already tried at the pinch of his party's destiny, and had been found walnting. In his own State, under his veiy eyes, his political organization had been undermined by Douglas, producing in it a more serious breach than anywhere else in the country. New York City THE POLITICAL YEAR 1S60. 465 was the great center of Republican journalism, which was honeycombed through and through with Douglasism. Where was Seward while this was going on? For a time at least he seemed to stand paralyzed in doubtful silence. Who steps forward into the breach at the decisive moment in Seward's own State? That we have seen Lincoln doing, and thus giving proof of his supreme leadership before the whole country. To his ability was added availability, very need- ful for success, even if often accidental. This phase of the problem narrowed itself down to the question: "Who can carry the three uncertain States which went for Buchanan in 1856 — Ilhnois, Indiana, Pennsylvania? Not Seward, say their delegates in unison, assembled at the Convention. But Lincoln had won Illinois in 1858 against Douglas, and he was now stronger than then. In- diana would follow Illinois, and there was a good chance for him in Pennsylvania. So it happened this time that the man who had shown himself the unquestioned leader of his party possessed also the greatest availability. Only one result could fol- low: Lincoln received the nomination for Presi- dent on the third ballot from the Re[)ublican Con- vention which assembled at Chicago, May IG, 1860. A few paragraphs may be given to the campaign. Lincoln stayed at home, made no speech, wrote no public letters. When the news of the nomination reached Springfield, he is reported to have broken 30 466 ABRAHAM LIXCOLX—PART SECOXD. loose from the crowd and to have started off home, saying, "there is a httle woman down on Eighth Street who will be glad to hear the news; you must excuse me till I inform her." Tradition has it that Mary Todd Lincoln as a young lady had said she was going to marry a man who would be President, and now her presentiment has made a surprising stride toward fulfilment. But Lincoln's dutiful remembrance of the ''little woman down on Eighth Street" re-echoed over the land in the newspapers of the time and won the hearts of the gentle sex, who failed not to observe that good point in a husband. And many a girl graduate of the period cited the anecdote in her little essay at the closing exercises of school during the summer with adoring approval, and held it up as an exam- ple to be followed by all men when married, young as well as old. Seward added to his laurels by a strong campaign in favor of the rival who had carried off the prize which he and his friends deemed his by virtue of long and eminent service in the cause. Particu- larly he spoke to the northern portion of the Free- States, reaffirming the irrepressible conflict and emphasizing the moral aspect of the struggle with slavery. That theme suited the man and his audience. The disappointment of his followers he not only put down, but transformed it into en- thusiasm for the candidate. True nobility of character Seward showed, and this it was which THE POLITICAL YEAR 1860. 467 exalted and irradiated his speeches. The man be- hind the words was their own shining commentary. Seward was an astute poUtician, and probably he felt that he could not have been elected if nomi- nated. Certainly he had often heard such an opinion from his undoubted friends. A poll of Republican Congressmen taken about this time showed that, in the judgment of nearly all of them, Seward would not be successful. But the service of Seward, though great, was not the greatest act of the campaign as a whole — this glory belongs to the personal canvas of Doug- las. Seward's work after all was for his party, or a wing of his party; but Douglas now distinctly rose above party into the Nation. His all-domi- nating theme became the Union, which he knew was at stake. His own doctrine of Popular Sov- ereignty he did not wholly drop, but he thrust it into the background: "BeHeving that the Union is in danger, I will make any personal sacrifice to save it." He could still give a smart rap at the ''Black Republicans," but the grand objective point of his assault was Southern Secession, about which ho was better informed than any other pub- lic man in the North. At Baltimore, in which city was fermenting a good deal of disunionism, he boldly declared: "I tell you, nty fellow citizens, I believe this Union is in danger. In my opinion there is a mature plan to break up this Union. I beUeve the election of a Black Republican to be 468 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND, the signal for that attempt, and that the leaders of the scheme desire the election of Lincoln so as to have an excuse for disunion." Douglas here gives the fruit of his long intercourse at Washing- ton with Southerners. Moreover he strikes the key-note of his present campaign, yea, of his pres- ent political character, which is no longer that of a breacher, but is getting to be that of a preserver. In this respect he is a new man and turns down a new road. The transformation is striking; what transformed him? To be sure, he was always an institutional man; herein he and Lincoln were at one from the beginning. But the time has brought forth the question, not merely of a partisan tri- umph, but the very crisis of his institutional world. At once he enlists and opens his war for the Union, barely a year before the actual war. He, the greatest statesman of the past decade of transition, feels and declares a new epoch to be dawning with a new problem and mightier than any in the his- tory of the government since its formation. At once he moved Southward, for he is the only man who, with such oj^inions, would there be tol- erated. At Norfolk he was asked if the election of Lincoln would justify the Southern States in seceding from the Union. "Emphatically no," responded Douglas with his leonine emphasis. "The election of a man to the Presidency by the American people in conformity with the Constitu- tion of the United States would not justify any at- THE POLITICAL YEAR 1S60. 469 tempt at dissolving this glorious confcxlcracy." Thus he took strong position against the right of Secession in its hotbed. He acknowledged the right of revolution for a just cause, but the election of Lincoln furnished no such cause. But how about that other Southern goblin, Coercion? Many Union men in the South believed that a State, if it once seceded, could not be coerced. Listen to Douglas: ''I think the President, whoever he may be, should treat all attempts to break up the Union by resistance to its laws as Old Hickory treated the nullifiers of 1832." Thus he has pro- claimed to the Southern people quite prophetically the consequences of their two favorite doctrines, the right of Secession and the wrong of Coercion. Probably he did not think he would change their purpose, or rather the purpose of their leaders. Really he was speaking to the million and more of his own personal followers in the Northern and Border States, and aligning them internally for the coming conflict. That he felt to be his real function: to unify the two Union parties against disunion. Measureless abuse was poured upon h'_m by the Southern press, and how small was the credit he received from the Northern press! Douglas declared early in the canvas that Lincoln would be elected, but all the more he seemed to feel his mission. The attempts at the fusion of his party with the two other parties opposed to Lincoln he did not encourage, he believed it could 470 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. do no good. When he heard in Iowa how the October States had voted, he said, "Lincoln is the next President. I have no hope and no destiny before me but to do my best to save the Union from overthrow." At once he turned to the South again with renewed exhortation and warning, and the evening before the November election found him at Mobile, having reached the extreme South- ern line of secessive Cottonia. The Presidential campaign of Douglas in 1860 is his greatest public deed in a number of respects, much greater, we think, than his debate with Lincoln. He probably did not jjrpduce much change in the South, which was no longer to be diverted from its destructive course; but he prac- tically united the North, which read his speeches and his defiant answers to interrogating Secession- ists. He aligned his own party upon the imj:)end- ing question of the Laiion — a service which cannot be too highly estimated in view of the darkening future. But what about Douglas himself? He begins to change, he has gotten a new theme xcvy different from his Popular Sovereignty. His dec})- est and best self, his institutional character, is rising to the surface and asserting itself with all his energy and daring, in the face of fierce opposition. He tackles the mad spirit of a whole section of the country with unparalleled courage, and speaks to it an impressive warning against the way it seems bent on going. Really it may now be said that THE POLITICAL YEAR 1860. 471 Douglas in his turn has become prophetic, bearing a message of the future to the South, voicing the decree of the AVorld-Spirit against any violation of the Union. He utters to the Southern Hotspurs a kind of apocalypse, prefiguring to them before- hand the consequences of their coming deed. This was Douglas at his highest. To be sure he said to them many other things not so high, dropping down at times to what seems now political clap- trap. Still he delivered his message very impres- sively, the only Northerner who could have done it, and he manifested in his own person as well as in word and action the adamantine resolution of the united Northern Folk-Soul in case of secession. In this campaign Southward there is no doubt that Douglas rendered an inestimable service to the future President, Lincoln, who seems never to have appreciated it. Here comes to light again that one limitation of Lincoln — he, the man of justice and charity, if there ever was one, cannot be charitable, cannot even be just to his great anti- type, though the latter has, in the deepest and most essential principle, come over to him and is co-operating with him in his supreme work, that of preserving the Union. For Douglas believed, after the nominations of 1860, that Lincoln would be elected President, and knew better than Lincoln himself what would be the latter's main task. Again we must repeat that Douglas appreciated Lincoln better than Lincoln appre- 472 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. ci'ated Douglas, particularly after their great de- bate in Illinois. In fact we have to think that the debate had its secret effect upon Douglas, who was never after- wards quite the same man, and became more and more different from the former separative breacher Douglas, rending asunder all political parties to further his political ambition. Through the words of Lincoln and still more through the mighty re- sponse of the Folk-Soul to these words, Douglas began to undergo an inner change, a kind of con- version which, however, did not show itself in any open renunciation of old doctrines, but in a new attitude toward Lincoln. This became visible in the Southern campaign of Douglas in 1860, when he told the Southerners that they would not be justified in seceding on account of Lincoln's elec- tion. In a manner he pleads for Lincoln and for the Union under him, the rightful President; such is the meaning of his attitude generally more than of his words. The dual Douglas is being trans- formed inwardly, if not outwardly; he is not Janus-faced on the subject of the Union, but takes character from it and becomes himself unified within. But it is not thereby said that he stops talking his dualism, though this becomes more and more external to his real self. As Lincoln had to have his time of Subsidence for working out his double condition, so Douglas is going through his experience to the same end; he is getting unified like Lincoln and indeed with Lincoln. THE LAST OF THE COMPROMISES. 473 The fact is that in 1860 Lincohi and Douglas, in the deepest element of both of them, had come to- gether. That was the institutional element. Moral- ly they were still far apart. But the moral ques- tion of the wrong of slavery had become, not extinguished, but submerged in the preservation of nationality. Which had come to the other? Douglas moves to the support of Lincoln as the Constitutional President. Their rivalry is for him quite over. In this act Douglas is the great and generous and patriotic soul. Lincoln still keeps his distrust of that old dual Douglas, not recogniz- ing the new transfigured man, whose change has been brought about largely by himself. Ah! Lincoln! History with a sigh has to record one exception against thee: thou couldst renounce all thy jealousies — except one; thou couldst forgive all thy rivals — except one ; thou couldst love all thine enemies — except one; thou couldst recognize all thy friends— except one; and he, that excepted one, is doing just now a greater service to thee and thy cause than any other man has ever done or could do. XIII. The Last of the Com promises. Between the election of Lincoln and his inaugiu'a- tion some four months intervened. The North had won its victory fairly, constitutionally; the South was unwilHng to submit. This Union shall pro- 474 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. duce no more Slave-States, was the decree of the Folk-Soul registered by its vote. But the defeated party would somehow reverse the decree, and perpetuate the double Union as productive of both Slave-States and Free-States. As the South threatens secession unless its wish be complied with, and as some of her Commonwealths have actually begun to secede, the old American method of Com- promise will be resorted to again for the purpose of averting the new disunion. These four months may be characterized as the compromising interreg- num, or inter-Presidential chaos. It is true that Buchanan is still President; but an Executive without Will in a time which calls more impera- tively for Will than any other in our government's history, is nearly the same as no Executive at all. It is just this Will-less time which the Southern extremists seize upon for carrying out their plans. After two months of utter imbecility, Buchanan allows the triumvirate — Black, Stanton and Holt, to whom Dix is afterwards added — to make some attempt to stay the process of dissolution. Lincoln can only look on from Springfield and see his coming difficulties increase day by day, totally unable to interfere. He is, however, in- voked from many quarters to give his assent to the abandonment of the principle on which has been won the pohtical victoiy of ISGO. Leading Republicans, especially in the East, urge him to compromise the Republican cause by giving up THE LAST OF THE COMPROMISES. 475 the exclusion of slavery from the Territories. The New York press begins to waver, as it did in 1858 in regard to the Senatorial election. Seward is uncertain, and Seward's friend, Weed, advocates the surrender, at least till he pays a visit to Lincoln at Springfield, who has again to bring into line the Eastern branch of his own party. ''Compromise is the American devil," once cried an anti-slavery agitator. Certainly it now starts to showing itself deviUsh, even if it once may have been an angel of peace. Lincoln naturally becomes, during these months, the center around which swirl many currents of compromise. He has one main answer to all efforts at wrenching him from his position. Says he in a letter to Kellogg, December 11th: "Entertain no proposition for a compromise in regard to the extension of slavery. The instant you do, they have us under again; all our labor is lost, and sooner or later must be done^ over. . . . The tug has come, and better now than later." Two days afterwards he writes to Washburne: "Pre- vent, as far as possible, any of our friends from demoralizing themselves and our cause by enter- taining propositions for compromise of any sort on slavery extension. There is no possible com- promise upon it but which puts us under again, and leaves all our work to do over again." Such were his exhortations to two Congressmen of his State who had written to him about the matter. He is 476 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. set against a renewal of the Missouri line, whose abrogation in 1854 he now recognizes to be a great stage in the anti-slavery movement. He will have nothing to do with Douglas's Popular Sovereignty or Eli Thayer's modification of the same. "Let either be done, and immediately filibustering and extension of slavery recommences." On other points which he deems of less importance, he is willing to yield, such as the execution of the Fugitive Slave Law, the inter-State Slave Trade, Slavery in the District of Columbia. But any compromise which again opens the extension of slavery into the Territories he regards as a base surrender of the victory already won in a fair fight. He will not Usten to such a proposition for a moment. "On that point hold firm as with a chain of steel." (See Lincoln's Works, Vol. I, for letters and statements to this effect.) As we look back to these seething and dizzying days, we see that Lincoln kept his head amid buffets of all sorts from friends and foes. He asserted and re-asserted with fresh emphasis that this Union must henceforth be Free-State pro- ducing only. We begin to feel his Will, his tenacity of purpose, which he is often hereafter to show. He was requested again and again by prominent men of the North and of the South to write a letter which would set forth his policy. He declined, referring his correspondents to his printed speeches and to the Republican platform. At the same time * THE LAST OF THE COMPROMISES. 477 he unswervingly affirmed the Union. In the East the strong Unionists were inchned to be com- promisers, while those opposed to compromise (Hke Greeley and Beecher and other anti-slavery men) were weak on the subject of the Union. Lincoln had no such cleavage in himself, and would not allow it in his party. With him it is the Union" which must be pro*ductive of Free-States, and not a dis-united Nation. The one Union, therefore, holds the primacy in his view, and not the dual Union, which the compromisers were always seeking to preserve. Still loss did he favor dis- union, to which many extreme anti-slaveiy men were not averse. Turning our eyes to Lincoln's antitype during these four months, to Douglas, we find that the opposition between the two old rivals is lessening, though by no means obliterated. On the other hand the strongest antithesis has developed be- tween Douglas as unionist, and Jefferson Davis as disunionist. Douglas never fails to strike the fundamental note of Union with great emphasis and power. Says he, speaking in the Senate, January 3rd, 1861: "I hold the election of any man, no matter who, by the American People according to the Constitution furnishes no cause, no justification for the dissolution of the Union. . Secession is wrong, unlawful, uncon- stitutional, criminal." Lincoln never piled up such a mountain of damnatory expletives against 478 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. secession. On this point Douglas reaches down to the deepest consistency of his character, to that underlying unity in his conviction which all the other rifts of his political career never breached. Here, too, he finds his original, elemental oneness with Lincoln, whom he can defend in the same speech, saying: ''I do not believe the rights of the South will materially suffer under the administra- tion of Mr. Lincoln." Surely such a statement in such a place at such a time by such a man, was not only just, but very generous. Would Lincoln have shown the same height of generosity to his Hfe-long antitypal competitor, the occasion offer- ing? He did not, as far as is known, though one thinks he might have taken the opportunity to do so. Lincoln, tender-hearted, forgiving to all his other enemies, even to the disunionists with arms in their hands, could never quite get over his anti- pathy to the unionist Douglas, even when the latter was bearding the Southern Senators in his rival's defence. Still there existed the old political difference, even if it was getting swallowed up in the deeper common principle of the two antagonists. Douglas did not pretend to have turned Republican during these four months. On the contrary he adhered to the old Dual Union, which he sought to preserve ; and he still could give a right smart slap at Lin- coln's Prelude of 'Hhe House divided against itself," to which he attributed no small share of THE LAST OF THE COMPROMISES. 479 Southern apprehension which saw in that speech "a fatal blow impending over them and over all they hold dear on earth." So Douglas consistently urged compromise, which Lincoln just as consis- tently resisted. For Douglas would still keep the Union productive of both Slave-States and Free- States, while Lincoln continued to affirm the Union as Free-State-producing only. Here, then, was their previous difference of opinion as to the nature of the Union ; but as to the existence of the Union itself they were a unit. And to this last issue events were rapidly whirling. The spirit of compromise found expression in many shapes, but its chief formulation was that of Senator Crittenden, from Kentucky. The main article of the Crittenden Compromise was the first, which proposed as a constitutional amendment that slavery should be prohibited north of the old Mis- souri line, and that south of it "slavery is hereby recognized as existing, and shall not be interfered with by Congress, but shall be protected as property by all the departments of the territorial govern- ment during its continuance." When the terri- tory north or south of the line becomes a State, its constitution is to settle for it the question of slavery. This is substantially a repeal of Douglas's Repeal of the Missouri Compromise of 1854, and a restoration of the line of 1820. Can the clock of the Ages be thus turned backward and made to whirl forth a wholly new series of events? Ln- 480 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND possible; man cannot yet dictate to the World- Spirit, upbraiding it: You have gone wholly wrong in this last • historic generation; go back and do your work over again in the right way. Douglas supports the Crittenden Compromise, thus undoing his own Repeal out of which has evolved the Republican party, as he now sees. For it was that Repeal which threw open to freedom all the territories, Southern as well as Northern. Of course, RepubUcans could not vote for the Critten- den Compromise without cutting off their own heads. And yet several of the most influential Republican newspapers of the East, such as the Albany Evening Journal (Weed), and the New York Times (Ray- mond), begin to perform the famous feat of St. Denys, walking and also talking with severed head held in the hand. What about Seward? To this day his attitude is an unsolved enigma. At first he, with some of his nearest friends, seems to have leaned towards the Crittenden Compromise, but he was stiffened at least into silence when he became aware of Lincoln's decided opposition. This silence however, he broke in the Senate Chamber, January 12th, 1861, by a speech which aroused beforehand great expectations. But he did not mention the Crittenden Compromise, nor offer any of Ms own; it was a neutral speech, so neutral that it quite neutralized itself, and so compromising that it could not brace up to the point of supporting any Compromise. If it did not afRrm the Crittenden THE LAST OF THE COMPROMISES. 481 measure, it did not reject the same, and after its deliveiy nobody could tell quite where Seward stood, perhaps he could not tell himself. In him Compromise seems to have worked itself out to a kind of self-negation. For if a Presidental election cannot fix a result, how can a compromise fix any- thing? In fact, Compromise becomes the grand unfixer, and so really unfixes itself, and seems to have unfixed Seward completely. The people are supposed to be the final arbiter at the polls, but if you can unsettle their decree, government itself is unsettled. The Crittenden Compromise in its ultimate trend was the destruction of the Constitu- tional rule of the majority. And if this be once set aside, where is the end? Not a year will pass before the minority will demand another com- promise with the renewed menace of dissolving the Union. Here, again, Lincoln hit the nail on the head (in his letter to Hale, January 11th, 1861): "If we surrender to those we have beaten, it is the end of us, and of the Government. They will repeat the experiment upon us ad lihitum. A year will not pass till we shall have to take Cuba as the condition upon which they will stay in the Union." This lays bare the veiy process inherent in Com- promise, and shows its negative, indeed self- negative character. It can give no peace, least of all to itself. It will be invoked again and again to nullify the rule of the majority, which the South now tackles as its greatest enemy. Lincoln still 31 482 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. further declares that they, the Southerners, have had a Constitution, and "Acts of Congress of their own framing" for "over seventy years"; they have indeed hitherto ruled the countiy, "and they can never have a more shallow pretext for break- ing up the government or extorting a compromise than now." Such was his firm attitude towards compromising the one essential principle, and certainly his contrast with Seward is very striking. In the Senate Committee of thirteen, to which was referred the Crittenden Compromise, six voted for it, seven against it — the latter embracing five Republicans and two Southerners from the Cotton States, Davis and Toombs. Yet these two would have supported it if a majority of the Re- publicans had voted that way. But the whole five, including Seward, refused to accept the pivotal article of Crittenden's measure. There is no doubt that Davis and Toombs recognized the full bearing of the Compromise in reference to the Republican party, whose senators they would have furtively chuckled to see undoing the Republican victory of 1860. But probably a deeper hope lay in the hearts of these two gifted and ambitious Southerners of Cottonia: nothing less than the destruction of majority rule through its own act. For the Southern was already the minority party in the nation, and was destined to become more so. If the South could make the Constitutional majority nullify itself through Compromise, that THE LAST OF THE COMPROMISES. 483 were better and more certain than secession. Doubtless good papa Crittenden himself had no such ultimate intention by his measure. But Davis and Toombs saw in it the domination of the Southern minority, or at least the power to neutral- ize the Northern majority. Now of course the Re- publicans must enter the trap, otherwise they will not be caught. Hence that peculiar proviso of Davis and Toombs : if the Republican Senators (or the most of them), will vote for the Compromise, we shall vote for it too; if not, we shall not. For once in their lives Davis and Toombs are going to vote with the Republicans anyhow, be it yes. or no. It seems to have been Davis who concocted this bright scheme; at least he introduced a rule that no report of the Committee should be adopted which was not supported by a majority of the Repubhcan Senators. So the Crittenden Com- promise failed in its birth-place, and could not be resuscitated. In fact, no Congressional enactment of it would have been valid after the Dred Scott decision, which thus becomes the grand obstacle to the very cause which it was intended to bolster. It is often supposed that a Constitutional amend- ment eml)odying the Crittenden Compromise would have been adopted by the Northern people, if they could have gotten a chance to vote upon it in time. But events were not to be halted, and the rapid progress of Secession soon rendered all Compromise purposeless. The Double Union cannot be re- 484 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. stored ; the alternative begins to appear before the Folk-Soul: complete Disunion or complete Union. To Lincoln more than to anybody else is due the credit that the Nation did not compromise the principle that it must be hereafter Free-State- producing only. With this surrender would have gone the original basic principle of the government, the iiile of the majority constitutionally expressed. There would have been little use for another Presi- dential election. Popular government, if it had ac- cepted the Crittenden Compromise, would logically have voted its own death sentence. A deeper conflict than that against slavery begins to appear. Hitherto in the famous Compromises, the rule of the majority had not been assailed, but had been recognized by both sides, each of which had sought to win it as the great boon. But now the rule of the legal majority must be set aside, yea, must be made to set itself aside. Really the minority will dictate to the majority, and the very existence of popular government is at stake. Compromise having grappled with majority rule gets flung to the earth after a hurly-burly contest under a variety of shapes during these months. The last of the Compromises seeking to keep the State- producing Union doubly productive of States, free and slave, never came to reality, though it kept floating for months before the Folk-Soul as a kind of delusive phantom, which was but the de- parted ghost of the old order hovering with longing LINCOLN'S FIRST INAUGURAL. 485 and love over the scenes of its once throbbing life. But it is high time that these ghostly performances be laid, and that the unearthly dance of the spooks which have so long been in possession of the Capitol, be banned forever. And here comes Lincoln, the new man bringing the new order, with a paper in his pocket proclaiming the same, now to be inaugurated as President of the United States. Let us listen to his memorable document. XIV. Lincoln's First Inaugural. At last the four months' agonizing suspense be- gins to draw to a close, and Lincoln starts out on his journey from Springfield to Washington. This journey was a continuous line of speeches, whose chief object was to say nothing. Not a great suc- cess nor a great failure was it, under the condi- tions: to keep the mind always shut and the mouth always open. Once indeed he did say that he might have to put his foot down firmly, but he immediately apologized for his indiscretion. Of course there was a great deal of criticism on what he said, and more yet on what he did not say, for everybody expected a hint of his policy. Then there was an clement of the grotesque in Lincoln from start to finish — both conscious and uncon- scious — and it did not fail him on this trip. As he moved into the formal East, the Mephistopheles 486 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. of the Press gloated over his shocking lack of dig- nity with no little mockery. How different from our previous two Eastern Presidents, the elegant Yankee Franklin Pierce, dubbed the parlor Presi- dent, and smooth-worded diplomatic James Buch- anan of unfathomable tortuosity. And then just think of it! The President-elect of the United States wore black kid gloves in New York at the opera on a festal night. "A simple Susan" from the Western prairie in the Presidential chair! cries the best-known Republican editor of New England, utterly unable to penetrate beneath externals. Of course the Southern newspaper triumphantly com- pared Lincoln with the cultured and experienced Jefferson Davis, President of the new Southern Confederacy. Then that final serio-comic flight in disguise through Baltimore to the Capital ! Let the whole thing pass, for really it amounts to noth- ing, as if Zeus or the World-Spirit was having a little fun all to himself before proceeding to the serious, yea tragic business at hand. But omitting many preliminary incidents of lesser interest, let us witness Lincoln on March 4th, 1861, in the act of passing into the Presi- dency. He has reached the east portico of the Capital where he is to take the oath of office ad- ministered by Chief-Justice Taney, the author of the Dred Scott decision, which, Lincoln declared not long after its promulgation, must be reversed in time by the Court itself or by the People. That LINCOLN'S FIRST INAUGURAL. 487 was not yet four years since. In a sense they must be deemed antagonists, representing two opposite political tendencies. The Dred Scott de- cision has not been reversed openly, but a long stride has been made in that direction. Antago- nists they are, and some months later Taney will directly tackle Lincoln in the Merryman case, per- taining to the suspension of Habeas Corpus. But Lincoln will meet triumphantly in deed and word the Chief-Justice, who, with the narrowness of the technical lawyer would assert one clause of the Constitution, and let the whole Constitution and the government back of it go to ruin, through the hostility of its destroyers protected by the Supreme Court. Taney, Jackson's appointee, grap- ples with a President who has Jackson's will with- out his willfulness, and the Jacksonian Chief- Justice has to receive an application of the most famous of Jackson's utterances, that the Nation's Executive, as co-ordinate Power of the Govern- ment, must execute the Constitution "as he under- stands it." Still very gently, though very firmly is the thing done, and the Chief-Justice is estopped from using the Constitution to protect the de- stroyers of the Constitution. There is, however, not the least intention of interfering with the Su- preme Court in its legitimate sphere, for Lincoln is himself a lawyer and thoroughly institutional in spirit. But the downwright weakness of the last two Executives (Pierce and Buchanan), and the 488 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. flat mediocrity of the whole line of post-Jacksonian Presidents up to .Lincoln, had fostered in Taney, who was Chief-Justice during this whole period an exaggerated sense of his importance which the life-tenure of his office did not diminish. The re- sult was some tendency to usurpation, some bent to take in hand political questions, which did not belong to the judicial sphere. This tendency cul- minated in the Dred Scott decision, which as one Supreme Judge and perhaps the ablest (Curtis) de- clared, lay outside the jurisdiction of Court. That was also the opinion of Lincoln, who has, therefore, to recover the full executive Power from the hanels of Taney, or at least to prevent the possibility of his interference with the Presidential function at critical moments. This our new President does effectually both in action and in argument (see his Message to Congress July 4th, 1861). So Lincoln has to assert his great office against the man who may be called his judicial adversary, who now ad- ministers to him the oath "to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States," the whole of it, not merely a part of it; and we may also hear Lincoln swear to Taney, "I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States," the whole of it, not merely a part of it. Very prominent at the inauguration we must note another man, entirely different from Taney, yea the reverse of him, but still a lawyer — William LINCOLN'S FIRST INAUGURAL. 489 H. Seward. Taney represents the Formal Law, to the last degree of formality; Seward has uttered the Higher Law, quite divested of, if not hostile to all Form. One thinks that in this respect the two halves ought to be put together and made over into a whole. In fact they are essentially synthe- sized in Lincoln, whom we have already seen try- ing to preserve Form and Spirit, even when these get to fighting desperately, Seward has been, if not quite the adversary, at least the rival of Lin- coln in the same party. At present he is the chosen Secretary of State, and head member of the new cabinet. There is no doubt that Seward deemed himself not only the right hand of the in- coming President, but practically the President himself. His private correspondence of this time has been published, and it makes him appear to himself the central power as well as the savior of the country. To his mind the Presidency had become divided like himself; there was indeed the formal President Lincoln, but the Higher Presi- dent was Seward. And his Section, the old North- Eastern States, held the same opinion of his su- premacy. The tall Illinois sucker might perform the Presidential motions, but Seward was to pull the strings. So Lincoln is yet to have quite a little tussle with his own chief officer, who, how- ever, in spite of his egotism, has the transcendent merit of being able to learn his lesson, and who will, after more experience, frankly declare of his 490 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. superior: "The President is the best of us." And Lincoln when he gets Seward duly placed will in turn fully recognize his great Secretary and cling to him against all opposition. So the new Presi- dent at his inauguration has l^efore him those two somewhat dislocated, yet opposite talents, Taney and Seward, the excessive Formal Law and the Higher Law; but he will be able to subordinate both, and have them do their proper work, each in his own sphere, toiling at his allotted task. Characteristic is the > report that Taney once de- clared at Washington, that he would refuse to ad- minister the Constitutional oath to Seward, if the latter were elected President. It is important to observe that Lincoln in his Inaugural does not fail to glance at the two col- liding Laws, and perchance indirectly at their representatives before him. The Higher Law had been unfolded and promulgated chiefly in connec- tion with the Fugitive Slave enactments. Lincoln reads the clause of the Constitution which deals with persons "held to service or labor in one State and escaping into another," and which commands their rendition. This Enacted Law must be obeyed, especially by all who take an oath to sup- port the Constitution, notwithstanding the Higher Law . From Seward we may then imagine Lincoln turning to Taney, in thought if not in look. Says the Inaugural: ''If the policy of the Government upon vital questions affecting the whole People is LINCOLN'S FIRST INAUGURAL. 491 to be irrevocably fixed by decisions of the Su- preme Court, the instant they are made, the People will have ceased to be their own rulers, having to that extent practically resigned their Government into the hands of that eminent tribunal." No such judicial autocracy can be permitted in accord with the Constitution itself. So much for these two extremes, Taney and Seward, with their one- sided, deeply colliding principles, who are now in presence of their higher synthesis and master. The key-note of the inaugural is the Primacy of the Union, with the consequent denial of the right of Secession, and the consequent affirmation of the right of Coercion, even if this last is very gently put. It is noteworthy as indicating the drift of Lincoln's thought that he places together the two opposite Higher Laws, the one in the North which resists the Fugitive Slave clause of the Constitution, and the one in the South which resists the Slave Trade clause of the Constitution. In both cases it is "the moral sense of the commu- nity" which challenges the established Law. In Massachusetts it is difficult legally to condemn th'e slave, in South Carolina it is difficult legally to condemn the slaver, though both be brought to trial. Lincoln fails not to express his own moral conviction against slavery, though he must execute the Constitution as it stands. But at present the conservation of the Union must be his supreme object, everything else is subordinate. "No State 492 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. of its own mere motion can lawfully get out of the Union;" State caprice must be subjected to law; "In view of the Constitution, the Union is un- broken," in spite of all this secession. But there is a third person present at this In- augural more interesting and more important than Seward or Taney or any other man in the Nation except the President himself. That is Lincoln's life-long antitype, Stephen A. Douglas, who has taken a front scat on the stand just behind Lin- coln as the latter reads to the assembled thous- ands in a clear, firm, penetrating voice his ad- dress. Typical was the position and attitude of the Little Giant, who said to an acquaintance that he intended to show "his determination to stand by the new Administration in the perform- ance of its first great duty to maintain the Union." Upon this point it cannot be too often repeated that he and Lincoln were at one from the beginning. Douglas now advances openly to the support of his old antagonist upon the over- shadowing issue of the time, and brings with him- self, if need be, a million of bayonets. And what is more important, there comes in his train a united North, to which he alone adds a majority of the people of the Border Slave States. The Presidential election of 1860 had shown the pro- digious personal influence of Douglas, which was probably greater than that of Lincoln at the time of the Inaugural. LINCOLN'S FIRST INAUGURAL. 493 And now occurs an incident, trivial enough ex- ternally, which impressed the thousands there present, who saw it, which has struck the millions who have since read it, and still read it, as some- thing deeply symbolic of the two antitypes as well as of the Nation and its coming destiny. Lincoln rose to read his address, with cane and manuscript in hand ; but he was at a loss where to place his high silk hat, 'that original Post Office of his, every available spot being occupied. As he looked help- lessly around, Douglas sprang up and relieved him of his encumbrance, remarking to a lady near by : "If I can't be President, I can at least hold his hat." It was indeed a very beautiful act of courtesy, but in it Douglas also expressed his will- ingness, yea, his eagerness io help the man who had been hitherto his chief rival in the latter's supreme emergency, which was also that of the Nation. Such was the symbolic act of Douglas at Lincoln's inauguration, as significant and as eloquent in its way as the President's address, which it reinforced mightily with its unspoken message. Nor should we fail to see that Lincoln's Inau- gural has its relation to Douglas, even more de- cisively than to Taney and Seward. In it we find the former differences between Lincoln and Douglas hardly mentioned, certainly not empha- sized. The territorial question is passed over with one or two non-partisan allusions. The con- 494 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. flict of the Illinois Debate of 1858 is sunk in a far deeper struggle, upon which both the former an- tagonists are practically united. In fact, Lincoln made changes in the first draft of his Inaugural which would indicate that he had Douglas in view. He wrote at Springfield: "Having been elected on the Chicago platform, I hold myself bound to follow the principles therein declared" — the main principle of that })latform being the Congressional exclusion of slavery from the Terri- tories as against Douglas's Popular Sovereignty. This partisan utterance Lincoln cut out at Wash- ington, Seward suggesting it, and still more, the new situation imperiously dictating it. Other changes from the original draft (see it in Nicolay and Hay's Life of Lincoln, Vol. HI.) point to the same source of adjustment. For Lincoln realized more than ever when he reached the Capital, the pivotal position of Douglas, who wielded the power of uniting or of separating the North. The Inaugural, therefore, has little or nothing to which Douglas could object. Indeed, it asserts the pre- servation of the Double Union; it has not a word about this Nation "becoming all one thing or all the other." Even the Union is not affirmed to be Free-State producing only. These two princi- ples are not, however, abjured by Lincoln, but are held in abeyance. For his great immediate prob- lem is to unite the parties of the North against secession, and to join to them the Unionists of LINCOLN'S FIRST INAUGURAL. 495 the Border Slave States. The Inaugural is skill- fully adjusted to that end. The man whom he has to win above all others is Douglas, who in many ways has shown himself ready to be won. He called upon Lincoln at the White House to pay his respects to the new President., and there is little doubt that he whispered in the ear of his successful rival his support of every effort to main- tain the Union. In fact there had probably been some communication between them before inau- guration day. At any rate the Inaugural seeks to avoid giving any offence to Douglas and his fol- lowers. In the Senate two days after its delivery Douglas nobly declared: "It is a peace offering rather than a war message." Still it cannot be said that the two Giants were as yet completely harnessed together into one team. Both were indeed pulling for the Union, but each was still inclined to reach the goal by a somewhat different road. Douglas continued to be openly for the Double Union, which he sought to restore by peace. Hence on March 15th, he offered a resolution in the Senate to withdraw the United States troops from all forts in the seceded States except Key West and Tortugas, which he stUl deemed national. Says he: ''I proclaim boldly the pohcy of those with whom I act; we are for peace. . . . War is disunion; war is final, eternal separation," So Douglas unquestionably thought; and such seemed to him at that time the 496 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. only road back to Union, even if the years will prove him mistaken. In one way his policy was correct : We, the Unionists, must not be the ag- gressors, if we would unite the whole North and divide the South. In the same speech (March 15th) he opposed the blockade of the Southern ports as illegal and impolitic. Says he: "I cannot consent that the President of the United States may, at his discretion, blockade the ports of the United States, or of any other country." Thus he still shows a point of conflict with Lincoln. His purpose is manifestly twofold; he would, on the one hand, restore the old Union through peace, but on the other especially, he would hold back the Administration from precipitating the armed collision by giving the first blow. In the former case he did not, and, could not, succeed; in the second, he succeeded, for the South soon commits the pivotal act of aggression. And now the reader has to ask : Did Lincoln on his part appreciate the generous support given him by his ancient rival, or did he still feel that lurking suspicion of Douglas which had so long hounded him like a curse? We have no statement of Lincoln on this point; but we may take as an indirect reflection of his feeling the view of his two private secretaries in their biography of him: "Recognizing his defeat, Douglas was by no means conquered. Already in a Senate debate he had opened his trenches to undermine and wreck Lin- LINCOLN'S FIRST INAUGURAL. 497 coin's Administration. Already he had set liis subtle sophistry to demonstrate that the revenue laws gave the Executive *no authority for co- ercion. . . . His speech of the 15th of March was only a new instance of his readiness to risk his consistency and his fame for a plausible but delusive move in party strategy." (Nicolay and Hay's Life of Lincoln, Vol. 4, pp. 80, 82). The language of this extract recalls Lincoln's designa- tion of Douglas as "the sapper and miner." We cannot help thinking that his old jealousy still crops out in these words of men used to writing down his dictations. But the attitude of Douglas in his speech of March 15th, has, to the impartial reader, a different motive from that here given. He did not pretend to be a Republican, he was still for the Dual Union restored through peace. It is true that Douglas was a ''miner and sapper" of all political parties as such, his own party in- cluded ; but he never failed to draw the line at the Union, which he would not breach. And even now his deepest motive is to unite the North and divide the South by holding the Administration back from any act of aggression. Forbear, for- bear, till the South strikes the first blow against the Union, and we shall then all be of one mind — that is the true explanation of Douglas, and con- sistent with all his recent sayings and doings. He is, accordingly, in the deepest of him, co-operating with Lincoln and the Union, though he marches 32 498 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. along his own road in consonance with his own political principle. And it is well that he so marches, for he, the masterful leader, is bringing with him his own party in the Northern and Bor- der States, and is thus uniting the forces of the Union, So we still have to declare that Lincoln has not yet attained the full appreciation of the deepest strain in the character of his life's incarnate coun- terpart, of his other Self, of his antitype, Douglas. Lincoln does not yet see that the time has brought together the colliding opposites of a quarter of a century in a deeper unity, has joined the two per- sonal halves in a greater whole; Lincoln does not yet see that himself and Douglas have at last reached down to that common institutional sub- strate in which they are both of one spirit. But that is just what Douglas recognizes, proclaims and reinforces in Lincoln, despite a difference of policy. The universal love, which has been the chief discipline of the inner life for Lincoln, cannot quite become universal; the one exception will rise to the surface after being consigned seemingly again and again to the abysses of the soul's ob- hvion. The spiritual problem of Lincoln is to de- racinate that unworthy tormenting jealousy which he has so long felt and still feels toward the rival of a life-time, who is now in the deepest matter his voluntary co-worker. Lincoln, can you not requite Douglas's faith in you, repeatedly uttered THEIR LAST MEETING. 499 in word and deed, with an equal faith in him? To be sure he has asked no such requital from you, but has gone ahead in the support of you for the sake of the common cause even under your suspicion. Is it not time that you give back a little of what you get, and clean out that one nook of uncharitableness in your otherwise ten- derly forgiving, unavenging heart? But while we may conceive the interrogation to be pending before Lincoln's conscience, the rapid whirl of events has brought on the grand opening act of the coming drama — the firing on Fort Sumter. The Sguth has struck the first blow, has done the first unequivocal deed of vio- lence, and the Civil War has actually began. The new situation is suddenly uncurtained ; what Doug- las insisted upon waiting for, has come with a rush; what Lincoln tried to prevent has happened anyhow, by the decree of a mightier Giant than either or both of the human Giants, mightier in- deed than the Nation itself. The horologe of the World's History is tolling a new epoch in the re- verberation of the cannon over Charleston Harbor. XV. Their Last Meeting. The five weeks between the Inaugural and the attack on Sumter witnessed Lincoln's only time of peace, and it was not very peaceful. Prepara- 500 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. tions for war resounded from the Cotton States. There were still many phantoms of Compromiso floating about on the air, distracting the pub- lic mind but utterly unreal and unrealizable. Hardly more than spectres they were of the old Double Union now giving up the ghost which somehow still tarried on this side of Styx, and kept bothering Lincoln a good deal and others even more . But at the roar of the gunnery from Sumter echoing through the land, they took flight to Hades, there to be imprisoned forever, except when they may be evoked to flit a momentary shadow across the page 'of History. During this time Lincoln had also a kind of do- mestic struggle in getting control of his cabinet which contained past competitors with him for the Presidency, and possible future candidates against him. Especially Seward and Chase were prominent in this peculiar struggle. But Lincoln's chief contest during these five weeks was with the State of Virginia, mother of the Union and of Presidents, now represented by her convention of unionists, who were going to dictate to the Presi- dent (3f the Union or turn disunionists. The Vir- ginia consciousness has become painfully dual: secession is wrong, but this wrong cannot be righted without committing wrong. Nay more, if the Nation dares right the wrong of secession, Virginia herself will secede, will do the very act which she declares to be wrong, and will join sim- THEIR LAST MEETING. 501 ilar wrong-doers whom she has condemned, and even will lead other States into doing her wrong. All this she may deem a sophistical juggle of words; but the inexorable logic of History will flay her for her deed more than any other State, and leave her rent in twain forever — the lasting realization of her dual conduct. Such is the his- toric fact; does it not evidence che penalty of her wrong imposeel by the Supreme Tribunal of the World-Spirit? Lincoln, grandson of Virginia, tried to rescue her from that awful mill of the Gods, but she would not hear him, and so she was ground almost into the dust of the grave, by the outer conflict as well as by her own inner contra- diction. Lincoln has resolved to apply a little test to that double-acting Virginia Convention which is for the Union but against its maintenance, and which has shown itself so completely devoid of the old statesmanship of the Commonwealth. He is going to "send bread to Anderson," who badly needs it, having only ''pork and water" for ra- tions. Let South Carolina, and Virginia too if she will, construe that gentle act of humanity to relieve a few starving soldiers in a time of peace as an act of war, and open fire ; one thing is cer- tain : the first shot will unite the North and divide the South. Very dexterous and timely is this plan of Lincoln; Virginia must quit her balanc- ing between two opposite principles which has 502 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. kept the whole Nation in a state of suspense and paralysis. She must now decide whether her hate of Coercion at the least is stronger than her love of the Union at the largest. Another even deeper question lies before her : Shall the rule of the ma- jority or of the minority prevail in this Nation? In his epoch-n:iaking Inaugural liincoln has not failed to drive home this point: "the rule of a minority as a permanent arrangement is wholly inadmissible; so that, rejecting the majority prin- ciple, anarchy or despotism is all that is left." Virginia shows that she will dictate to the ma- jority or go out of the Union, and that is her Unionism, wdiich, it is plain, must pass through a complete regeneration . Some 6,000 gallant South Carolinians opened their batteries upon the breadless soldiers of Fort Sumter, just 77 in number (exclusive of 51 non- combatants, laborers and musicians) on the 12th of April, 1861, and precipitated the Civil War. Anderson, after a stout-hearted defense, capitu- lated on the 13th with the honors of war; he and his garrison sailed North the next day. Such Vv'as the result of Lincoln's attempt to '\send bread to Anderson" who had to make his fight on ''pork and water." South Carolina possesses Fort Sum- ter, the first blow has been struck, coercion in its least possible form has been resisted by arms, the alignment of both sides for battle at once takes place. THEIR LAST MEETING. 503 The fall of Sumter was known in Washington fully by Sunday, April tb.e 14th, and was read on the same day throughout the country. Indigna- tion from all parts began to roll in oceanic waves toward the Capital as the center of power. The cabinet met and Lincoln read to them his draft of a proclamation which called 75,000 mihtia into service for three months, and convened Congress in extra session on the coming 4th of July. Excited multitudes streamed into the White House to hear what might be the word of the leader; tele- grams began to pour in from the Northern States with strong advice and stronger offers; Senators and Representatives tarrying in Washington after the adjournment of Congress pledged their con- stituencies to the support of the Government. It was known that one of those remaining behind in the Capital ami watching closely the rapid whirl of events was Stephen A. Douglas. Him above all men Lincoln probably most desired to see just then, but hardly dared openly to send for him. Douglas, however, did not wait for the invitation; through a friend he requested an interview with Lincoln on that same Sunday evening at the Ex- ecutive Mansion between seven and eight o'clock P. M. At the appointed time Douglas appeared, and Lincoln was ready also, having dismissed or evaded the importunate throng of visitors. It is recorded that they sat together in private conversation for nearly two hours, no other per- 504 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. son being present . Nothing of what they said has been handed down, as far as we have been able to find. Lincoln seems never to have talked about it afterwards. We may well suppose that he, first of all, submitted his proclamation to the keen eye of Douglas for suggestion and approval. As already said, the word of Douglas meant a united North and a divided South, and Lincoln knew it ; hence he rightly felt that before he sent forth that war-call to the country, he must have on it the stamp of Douglas. And he gets it. The next morning along with the proclamation, the newspapers gave the account of the Lincoln-Doug- las interview, and the authorized statement of Douglas that "he was prepared to sustain the President in the exercise of all his Constitutional functions to preserve the Union and maintain the Government, and defend the Federal Capital," ''though he was still unalterably opposed to the ad- ministration on all its political issues," that is, on the special objects of the Republican party in re- gard to the Territories. Let it be noted that this exception is really in favor of Lincoln and the Union, for Douglas could hardly have made his followers Republicans, at least not so suddenly, but he could and did keep them firm Unionists, and in so far supporters of the administration. The fact is that since the inauguration, Lincoln and Douglas were both pursuing the same end though by different roads : to keep the peace in all THEIR LAST MEETING. 505 forbearance till the South breaks it first, to the eye of the whole Nation. To be sure, distinguished Southern writers since that time have maintained that the bombardment of Sumter was not the first aggressive act of the war, but resistance to the previous aggression of the North, that it was merely defensive, and so on, with varied subtle argumentation. But the Nation as a whole did not then, and does not still take that view, and it was the Nation which practically had to decide the matter. So much, then, must have been agreed upon in that interview between Douglas and Lincoln; but anything else? Undoubtedly, though the manner of it will probably remain forever unknown. Wo may, therefore, be permitted to infer from their subsequent action their conversation, imagining it to culminate in a dramatic scene when the Little Giant, impulsively generous, jumps up from his seat, throws back that leonine head of his with its massive shock of hair, and thus bursts out to his life-long rival : Douglas. Mr. President, I wish to enlist under you, in obedience to that call. Lincoln (rising). Then you will be my first en- listed man in the war for the Union. Douglas. That is just what I wish to be. I am at your service. Lincoln. Well, to confess to you my secret thought, I have had you uppermost in my mind 506 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. for weeks. You can do more for me than any- other Hving man. Douglas. What are your orders? Lincoln. I have already thought of asking you to go to our common North- West and unify its people in one mass of living valor, which will sweep clown the Mississippi, in case of necessity, and keep its great Valley, the seat of the coming Nation, in the Union. Douglas. You outline my own purpose. I had already intended to do something of that sort myself. Lincoln. Yes, I note that our minds at last begin to run together. But I want to say that you are the only man, in my opinion, who can do that deed, the most important national deed to be done just at present. Douglas. Yes, I note that you begin at last to find me out. But I must be off; I think we understand each other now. Good-bye; in a few days I shall start for my new task, which I shall perform, if it kills me. Lincoln. God speed you, the first enlisted man in the cause of the Union, auGl I must add, the greatest. With you I seem already to have won; without you I would hardl}^ have tlared to start. Bending a courteous nod of the head Douglas springs out of the door into the night and soon disappears in the surging multitude. This was the last important meeting (Douglas seems to have LAST DEED AND DEATH OF DOUGLAS. 507 made a parting call a day or two later) of the two great rivals, whose hitherto antipathetic lives have now attained, through long and strong opposition, that common bond of sympathy which underlay both from the beginning. Such, then, is the final outcome of our two anti- types, whose contradictory careers we have fol- lowed for more than a quarter of a century, till th§y have reached and recognized their unity, which is likewise the unity of their country. So long has it taken them to find each other out. One cannot help asking whether Lincoln, with his innate tendency to brooding and melancholy, may not have afterwards had some resurgences of doubt and jealousy of his old competitor. That single exception to his magnanimity, that excepted Douglas, whose distrust had struck such deep roots into Lincoln's character, . could probably not be eradicated at once. But one fact stands out strongly: Douglas was soon speeding westward from the Capital on his new mission, which was also destined to be the climax and the conclusion of his life's work. XVL Last Deed and Death of Douglas. Along his route everywhere it' soon became known that Douglas was coming — now the out- spoken defender of the Union under the call of the newly elected President, whose most strongly sup- 508 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. ported opponent he had been in the recent can- vas. Thus he represented in person by his deed the unity of political parties for the Union. A word from such a source was intensely longed after by the Folk-Soul wherever he went, for he now voiced the united Nation better than any other public man. Very suggestive are his remarks at Bellair, Ohio, April 22d: "The proposition now is to separate these United States into little petty con- federacies. First divide them into two; and then, when either party gets beaten at the next election, subdivide again : then, whenever one gets beaten again, another subdivision .... and so it will go on." This is the logic (or rather the dia- lectic) of Secession; the separation, if allowed as a principle, must continue indefinitely, seeking to make itself universal. Lincoln had touched upon the same thought in his Inaugural: 'Tf a minority will secede rather than acquiesce, they make a precedent which will in turn divide and ruin them; for a minority of their own will secede from them whenever a majority refuses to be controlled by such minority. , . . All who cherish disunion sentiments are being educated to the exact tem- per of doing this. . . . Plainly the central idea of secession is the essence of anarchy." Thus Lincoln strikingly sets forth the inner dialectical process of Secession, which is strongly affirmed by Douglas in his foregoing speech: 'Tt is not a LAST DEED AND DEATH OF DOUGLAS. 509 question of union or disunion ; it is a question of order, of the stability of Government, of the peace of communities. The whole social system is threatened with destruction and disruption." There is no doubt that these words of Douglas appealed mightily to the Folk-Soul of the North- ern and Border States. He was a living example of his own doctrine ; he had been beaten at the polls in the recent election, and now he proclaims acquiescence in the rule of the majority as the very principle of republican government, and in- deed of all peace and ordc^. Very striking is his contrast with the other defeated candidates, both Southerners, Bell and Breckinridge, who at last became secessionists, preferring minority rule to coercion, or to the maintenance of majority rule in the Nation. Lincoln, the victorious candidate, even though President, could not have produced by any speech the overwhelming popular impres- sion which Douglas now excited wherever he went. For he still upheld that majority rule which had turned him under, while Lincoln, up- holding it, was felt to be also upholding his own personal interest and victory. Prodigious was the response of the whole People, not only to the doctrine of Douglas (which was the same as that of Lincoln), but also to his magnanimity as well as to his unselfish patriotism. It is not too much to say that Douglas now rises to the most glorious period of his total career; his very defeat he turns 510 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. into a triumph greater than that of his successful opponent. And so he continues his journey to the North- West, the united folk of all parties eveiywhere hugging his path and begging a word from that heart which could show so much renunciation for the good of the country. At Columbus he was called out in the night by a regiment marching to the front, for a kind of benediction. When he reached Springfield he made before the Illinois Legislature a speech, whose extraordinary power and influence have been celebrated by a reporter otherwise hostile to him, as follows: "It was like a blast of thunder. I do not think that it is possible for a human being to produce a more prodigious effect with spoken words than he pro- duced on those who were within the sound of his voice. He was standing in the same place where I had first heard Mr. Lincoln. . . . That speech hushed the breath of treason in every cor- ner of the State." (Horace White in Herndon & Weik's Lincoln, II., pp. 126-7). But his reception at Chicago, his home, was the most significant and triumphant of all. A great multitude, made up of every party, met him at the depot and escorted him, like a conqueror, to the Wigwam where Lin- coln had been nominated the year before. Ten thousand people again filled it, shouting a unani- mous welcome. He is now again in harmony with the Folk-Soul of his State and of the North- West, LAST DEED AND DEATH OF DOUGLAS. 511 from which he has been ahenated so many years. We have seen that since 1850, he has been re- peatedly received in Chicago with most emphatic signs of public disapproval. That was during his breaching, separative period. But now he repre- sents the united People more completely than Lincoln as he steps upon the platform of the Wig- wam, taking, as it were, Lincoln's place in Lin- coln's own temple, and performing Lincoln's own task of voicing the decree of the World-Spirit to the Folk-Soul. That must be deemed the culmi- nation of Douglas. In his speech he summons all his leonine strength and thunders: "There can be no neutrals in this war: only patriots or traitors." So Douglas places himself and all his followers on the battle- line of the Union. This is Douglas at his most colossal moment; but the act is breaking his heart. There is a strain of bleeding sorrow gush- ing up through his words in spite of his strong self-suppression. He confesses that "it is a sad task to discuss questions so fearful as civil war," which he foretells to be "disastrous and bloody." This was his last speech, May 1st, 1861. He took to his bed, and in a brief time was dangerously ill. His dying message to his boys at Georgetown College was: "Tell them to obey the laws and support the Constitution of the United States." His last breath was an utterance of that institu- tional spirit which we have always found under- 512 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. lying his political conduct, however changeful and negative. His death occurred June 3d, at -the age of 48 years, producing a tragic impression of gloom upon the Nation, which had followed so intently the final act of his life. Such is the end of what we have called the Lin- coln-Douglas sexennium, during which these two antitypal characters, both truly gigantic, have had their long desperate contest upon the arena of State and Nation. With this end also concludes the second great Period of Lincoln's whole career, in which he through many an up and down be- comes the supreme national man of his time, being chosen the Nation's Executive, its very Will in the pinch of its greatest crisis. A drama we may deem it with its twinned heroes ever cir- cling about each other in a kind of antithetic unity. The outcome is that the antitypes have at last come together in a common fundamental ele- ment of character which both instinctively have possessed from the beginning as their deepest in- stitutional endowment from their Nation. But alack-a-day! one of them dies in the very act of supreme reconciliation, which is called forth by the danger of that Union with which both of them were ingrown in the deepest of their being. The close of Douglas bears in it a sublime pathos: his highest deed of self-conquest and of harmonious mediation with his People kills him, or at least brings him face to face with his own individual dissolution. LAST DEED AND DEATH OF DOUGLAS. 513 So we must do justice to Douglas, whom the biographers of Lincoln generally have been in- clined to disparage and to blacken, having ap- parently absorbed somewhat of Lincoln's one dominating i)rcjudice — that against his life-long rival. But History must vindicate the persistent institutional character of Douglas from the first to the last of his career, even if he regarded political parties as legitimate game for his personal ambi- tion. But he never did play fast and loose with the Union, to whose support he rallied with all his strength in the crisis of its supreme danger. And we have to repeat that Douglas, especially after the great Debate, appreciated Lincoln better than Lincoln appreciated Douglas. Lincoln had a more universally magnanimous character than Douglas, still Douglas was more magnanimous to Lincoln than Lincoln to Douglas. Lincoln was more humane and more forgiving to all the world than Douglas, but less forgiving to Douglas than Douglas to him. And that common basic element of devotion to the Union, which lay so deep in both — Douglas recognized it more fully in Lincoln than Lincoln ever recognized it in Douglas. Still when all has been said, and both the Giants, the little and the big, have been weighed in the scales of justice and have impartially re- ceived judgment, it will be acknowledged that Lincoln was made of a purer clay and was cast in a diviner mould than Douglas. He seemed to be- 33 514 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART SECOND. long to a different and higher order of humanity. That sympathy with poor raortahty reaching down to the humblest even of a different race, sponta- neously pulsed upward like an Artesian well out of Lincoln's heart, but hardly out. of Douglas's. Not only no Slave-State shall be born hereafter of the American Union, but no slave shall ever again open his eyes on American soil — that was the principle and the achievement of Lincoln, but not of Douglas. The Genius of Civilization, the Spirit of the Age took Lincoln as its bosom confidant and communicated to him its secret decree for the future; but it whispered no such lofty evangel to Douglas, who, however, came at last to feel some- thing of the sort through Lincoln. And the su- preme test of the truly Great Man of any time or clime, that of making himself the mediator be- tween the World-Spirit and the Folk-Soul of his Nation in its pivotal crisis, can be triumphantly applied to Lincoln ; but to such high office Doug- las can lay no supereminent claim except for a time possibly on that last journey of his when he bore to his people Lincoln's message, which had also become deeply his own. And yet in Lincoln we long to find one thing which we cannot: some brief word of recognition for liis rival's great deed of service and self-denial. A little eulogy over the grave of Douglas would have well befitted Lincoln's lips, but they are silent. Still we cannot help thinking that out of LAST DEED AND DEATH OF DOUGLAS. 515 his generous heart in some self-communing moment burst forth a repentant confession: "That man I did not fully recognize; even in the final act of him I was still afraid that he would breach the Union, but he died defending it to his uttermost . Gladly would I confess to him my mistake, but it is too late; his last deed and death have brought home to me my own shortcoming. Farewell, my first enlisted man and the greatest — also the first hero to die for the Union. Henceforth I must go on without thee, quite alone." part ^birb. We have now reached the last and briefest Period of Lincoln, yet altogether the most event- ful and best known. Hardly four years does it continue, but it shows Lincoln's practical achieve- ment, his true realization. He passes to the exe- cution of what he has hitherto simply uttered and formulated. So he is distinctively the Nation's Executive, moving from word to deed. Taking in the whole sweep of this quadrennium, we see that he is to make actual his utterance: ''This (516) LINCOLN THE NATION'S ENECUTIVE. 517 Nation cannot endure half slave and half free." He indeed voiced the decree of the World-Spirit in his far-reaching Prelude of the Lincolniad, as we have elsewhere termed it; but now he has been chosen to be the doer also, the executor of that same decree. The Presidency means essenti- ally Will, verily the Will of the whole People in- corporate in one individual. Strange lot fallen out. of the skies upon that country lawyer from the North-West, quite without administrative ex- perience of any kind ! Will, then, he is to mani- fest in a supreme degree, institutional Will as distinct from caprice or obstinacy; the central Will of his immediate cabinet he is to show him- self as well as of the remotest members of the Nation. At the same time we must not leave out of his psychical composition the realm of his Feel- ing, that which is celebrated in hundreds of anec- dotes under the names of Sympathy, Heart, Love. Indeed, he had to guard against his emotional nature, which might make him at times too lenient, through Secretary Stanton, who was naturally the opposite of Lincoln in this regard. Just as great as his Feeling and his Will was his Int(,"llect, embracing what is often called sagac- ity, insight, genetic thought. Compared with Seward, who was a man of erudition, of reflec- tion, and of keen dialectical subtlety, Lincoln must be deemed the positive thinker within his range, which was political, being able to pene- 518 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. trate with his mind the soul of the object under consideration, to grasp and utter its creative es- sence. If the three basic activities of the Human Spirit be Feehng, Will and Intellect, we have to say that Lincoln manifested them all in a peculiarly high degree of completeness. What a contrast was he to the preceding will-less Executive! Buchanan must be taken as the final embodirtient of the old Double Union, its attempted equilib- rium between the Free-States and the Slave- States, its everlasting balancing and tetering be- tween the two sides, which reached quite the point of national paralysis, and in his case, of in- dividual paralysis, of Will. It is not too much to say that the Nation could see a picture of itself at that time in the doubleness and vacillation of the Chief Executive. And it will have to be added that the last decade before 1861 of Southern statesmanship under Northern Presidents had brought the Nation to this stage of inner dualism and will-lessness — almost to the point of letting the Nation fall asunder of itself in peace. Now it was at this point that Lincoln took hold and began to re-unite the separating parts into a new Whole, which is indeed his great work. We have sought to trace him united within after having had his time of dualism, and then ho is ready to make his cardinal utterance that the Nation's dualism must come to an end, as did his own. LINCOLN THE NATION'S ENECUTIVE. 519 As a divided Self, he never could have unified the Nation. Moreover Coercion, so hateful to the South, means Will — the Union declares itself also to be a Will, which is to be exerted and enforced through the Chief Executive. But the doctrine of the Southerners, even of the most of the Southern Unionists, was that the Union had no Will and had no right to assert itself against its destroyer Disunion. Thus will-less James Buchanan was its Presidential ideal. But Lincoln brings Will and a united Will into that unwilled and disunited Union, tmly a contradiction in terms. Hence he affirms in his Inaugural the doctrine of Coercion, or of the Union with a Will — he has to do so or to drop back into a James Buchanan with a dual, self-annulling Union. In the psychology of Lincoln an interesting point is to notice his use of the first personal pro- noun in many of his documents, especially in the later ones: "Must / shoot a simple-minded soldier- boy who deserts, while / must not touch a hair of a wily agitator who induces him to desert?" Really Lincoln here naively voices the Folk-Soul as an Ego or Self, which is his own. Some politi- cal opponents have tried to make Lincoln speak like an absolutist after the pattern of Louis XIV of France, when the latter said Vetat c'est moi. But of the caprice of the tyrant no rulci' was ever more free than Lincoln; his was an institutional 520 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. spirit seeking to govern through Law and Consti- tution, even when he says that ''measures other- wise unconstitutional, might become lawful by becoming indisj:)ensable to the preservation of the Constitution through the preservation of the Nation." That is, he might have to violate the Constitution in part to save it as a whole (as in the Merryman case). He recognized the Consti- tution as supreme in its entirety, but he also recognized that a clause of it might bo turned in a political crisis against the existence of the total instrument. He never said or imagined, "I am the State" in the absolutistic sense; he never deemed himself to be the source of the Constitu- tion, but rather the Constitution to be the source of himself as Executive, though he claimed the right to interpret that Constitution in his own sphere. Really his natural use of / in his public utterances has its deep psychologic justification in the man and his work, which the people felt and accepted; his Ego or Self had to re-create and re- establish that institutional world which threat- ened to fall to pieces around him. I. The supreme end of Lincoln during this Period is to preserve the Union. This is the one thing from which all his political conduct flows and to which it returns. Undoubtedly other ends play in, but they are inferior in his regard; in fact they become means at last to the one great object — Union. From this point of view we must LIXCOLX THE XATIOX'S EXECUTIVE. 521 estimate Lincoln's dealing with the slavery ques- tion during the war, the purpose of which was not the destruction of slavery but the preservation of the Union. And such was the only institutional way of carrying on the contest. This attitude, however, began to divide his party into radicals and conservatives, the first making the Union subordinate to the slavery issue, the other making the slavery issue subordinate to the Union. Of course there were many shades of opinion between these two wings. Moreover, as an act of policy, this attitude of Lincoln was very effective. It was the senthnent of Unon by which he held in line the Border States and the Douglas Democracy. A proclaimed war against slavery directly would have divided the North and united the South. And the radical Republicans would have to follow Lincoln in the end anyhow, for they could not well follow the South. Thus Lincoln, by his pohcy of making the Union the supreme end, practically kept the North united and the South divided. What Douglas so nobly helped to put into his hand, he held to the last. The radical programme would have brought failure, and have deserved it, being really anti-institutional. The best representative of the more radical wing of the Republicans was Horace Greeley, who through his Neio York Tribune could flood the country with his discontent. He assumed in his 522 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. newspaper to utter "the prayer of twenty mil- lions" for immediate emancipation. Greeley com- plains that your "timid counsels in such a crisis are calculated to prove perilous and probably dis- astrous," and that "you are unduly influenced by the counsels, the representations, the menaces of certain fossil politicians hailing from the Border Slave States." So Greeley would produce a di- vided North and and a united South. Important is Greeley's declaration "that a large proportion of our regular army officers, with many of the volunteers, evince far more solicitude to uphold slavery than to put down the Rebellion." Doubt- less this sentence touches upon a very serious troul)le in the Army of the Potomac in j)articular, but certainly Lincoln did not create it, though he had to deal with it as an existent fact. What was that trouble, or malady perchance? Lincoln himself recognized it, and tried to cure it, or at least to control it in one way or the other, still it baffled him quite to the last. But in reference to his policy, Lincoln takes his pen and answers Greeley in a brief letter which, both as to its form and significance, must be pronounced a masterpiece of its kind. Let the reader note once more the use of the .personal pronoun /, and the peculiar effect of it as a matter of style. Again we hear the individual Abraham Lincoln mightily voicing the Folk-Soul as a whole against a petty snarling fragment of it LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 523 represented l^y Greeley. Here is the letter, with the omission of a few sentences: ''I would save the Union. I would save it the shortest way under the Constitution. ... If I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also do that. What I do about slavery and the colored race, I do be- cause I believe it helps saves the Union ; and what I forbear, I forbear because I do not believe it would help save the Union. I shall do less when- ever I believe what I am doing hurts the cause, and I shall do more whenever I believe doing more will help the cause. ... I have here stated my purpose according to my view of offi- cial duty ; and I intend no modification of my oft- expressed personal wish that all men everywhere could be free." This letter bears the date of August 22, 1862, while the great resurgence of the Confederate arms was rolling Northward, both in the East and West and pushing the battle-line back to the Po- tomac and Ohio rivers, with the threat of invading the Free States and of making them the theater of the war. Lincoln had already written his Proclamation of Emancipation, but was waiting for a favorable time to issue it to the public. He says in this letter that he will use slavery as a means for preserving the Union. Note that he 524 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART THIRD. discriminates between his personal wish "that all men could be everywhere free," and his sworn Constitutional duty — the sign of the institutional man. Remarkable too is the composition of this letter with its geometric order and precision of sentences — antithetic and apothegmatic. But the supreme fact of it is the Primacy of the Union, now uttered against Northern extremists, and not against Southern disunionists, as was the first In- augural . 11. We are now led to inquire, what is this Union which Jjincoln places so decidedly first in importance? It means, of course, a reunited in- stead of a divided nationality, one instead of two or many. It is evident that the South is ready to break up the old State and to make several States out of it, while the North proposes to resist such a separative tendency, and even to strengthen the previous oneness. Thus two opposite phases of political consciousness have arisen, the unitary and the divisive, and are contending for mastery. This is the fundamental fact of the time, whose problem is calling impressively for solution. The mind queries: cannot the end of human government be attained as well by a cluster of independent States as by a single federated State? The South says yes, the North says no Who or what is to decide? Both parties appeal to war, or in religious speech, to the God of Battles, who is conceived by both to be over both, or the su- LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 525 preme arbiter of the contest. Each is or claims to be a Nation, and thus each recognizes and invokes a common Power above the Nation as the World- Judge who has at last to make the decision. At once our thought proceeds to grapple this highest Justiciary who holds appellate jurisdiction over the Nations, all of them, and has held it since the beginning of History, In this book of ours we have sought to keep him in mind and have endowed him with a special name, the World- Spirit, to whose tribunal all national events are ultimately referred for adjudication. Moreover, he works through men, especially through the Great Man of the Age, who becomes the mouth- piece as well as the executor of these supreme be- hests. Performing this function we have repeat- edly noted Lincoln, And we have to add, for the completion of the thought, that this World-Spirit has an end in its judgment of Nations — which end is to bring forth the supreme political institution, the universal State, for making freedom actual. According to this test each particular Nation is judged and takes its place in the institutional ev- olution of History. And now the question arises: Which is the higher principle, that of the North or of the South, in the view of the World-Spirit? Which repre- sents better the movement toward the universal State with its actualized freedom? The South is bringing forth a division of the one Federal Union 526 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. into two or more governments of the same kind, that is, rcpubhcan; the one repubUc hitherto is to become many repubhcs, as in South America, which therein reproduces the governmental multi- phcity of Europe. Evidently, then, secession means the relapse to the political form which dominates European History, from the ancient Greek City-State to the modern Nation-State. Europe is now and always has been since its his- toric beginning a Polyarchy, as we have elsewhere named it (see our European History, p. 17, et passim), a group of separate independent States, always fighting or getting ready to fight one another. The Federal Union as organized by the Constitution distinctly overcame and transcended the separative, mutually colliding stage of Poly- archic Europe through its principle of federation, which joins together the individual States, yet just therein preserves and secures their separate individuality. The American Union, from this point of view, is the new and higher political norm which the World-Spirit has evolved in unfolding toward its end. The wx>ll-known American motto is E pluribus unum, one made out of many, while Europe is many made out of one, and this what the South proposes to do through secession and separation. The Southern principle, therefore, runs counter to the ongoing movem(>nt of the World's History; it is a relapse to a preceding and less developed LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 527 political condition; it reverses the wheels of progress and goes backward to an historic stage wliich the Federal Union has transcended or at least has begun to transcend . Of course there is no intention here to disparage Europe, which cer- tainly had a higher culture than any part of the newly discovered Western Continent. Still we affirm that its political system was an earlier form, and really less developed in the sweep of universal History, than the federal system of the United States . We may divide the world-historical move- ment up to date into three main ever-advancing stages — Oriental, European, and Occidental or American; Europe with its separative Polyarchy is the second stage, while America with its Union through federation is the third, and so far the last . And now we are to see what all this has to do with Lincoln. He 'has become the supreme repre- sentative of this Federal Union in its most peril- ous crisis, when it must take a step forward into a new and higher form of itself, or must dro}) back- ward into some phase of the European Polyarchy . It is Lincoln more than any other leader who re- establishes and transforms the American Federal system when it had become decadent under the later Southern statesmanship . It is he who makes the old Double Union with its dualism of Free- States and Slave-States into a single homogeneous Union as to freedom. He will not permit Amer- ica to be Europeanized politicall}', though all "528 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD Americans recognize gratefully their European origin. But they must advance to the possession of their new historic heritage, which is not Poly- arc hie, but Federative through a Constitution. Europe is, indeed, a Polyarchy of monarchies mainly, while the trend of the South was turned toward a Polyarchy of republics, two or more. The Southerners could not be called monarchists, they were in their way, doubtless, as good repub- licans as the Northerners : but that was not the issue before the Tribunal of the World's History. The issue was secession, separation. Polyarchy, even though this might be a Polyarchy of repub- lics. We may well think that the World-Spirit or the presiding Genius over total History had laid the burden of upholding and realizing its third great stage upon the Unionists, whose supreme representative and protagonist was Lincoln, who must keep them from the grand relapse, free them from slavery the separator, and finally transform the Union itself. Lincoln was, therefore, a world-historical char- acter in the great sense, and thus we must grasp him at his highest. lindoubtedly he was national, intensely so, but Nations, especially in their bloom, are the bearers and executors of the World- Spirit. It is at this point that we may catch the full meaning of Lincoln's stress upon the Union. This was, indeed, of great economic advantage to the people, and otherwise brought many blessings LIXCOLX THE XATIOX'S EXECUTIVE 529 in its train; still the summation of all its merits and virtues lay in the fact that it was the culmi- nation of universal History, so far as this has yet unfolded. It may be added that Greeley had no con- sciousness of the world-historical place of the Union, and hence he could not at all appreciate the deepest motive of Lincoln, and indeed, of the war itself. The two men united in a common hostility to slavery, but Greeley had almost no institutional sense, which was the saving attribute of Lincoln. Over and over again during the war the utterances of Greeley, though not consistent always, could only be called those of an anti- slavery disunionist, and thus showed a very deep point of agreement with the pro-slavery disunion- ist. Now Lincoln's great call was to vindicate the Union, not merely as national but also as world-liistorical; so he had to meet and put down disunionism of both kinds, anti-slavery and pro- slaveiy. Northern and Southern, Greeley and Jef- ferson Davis. The former was chiefly accom- plished by the word of Lincoln (witness the fore- going letter), the latter by his deed. At the same time he declared he would lay hands on slavery as a means for preserving the Union — which was also a kind of notice to the pro-slavery Unionists of the Border States to get ready to take the step with him. in. The thoughtful reader will not fail to ask, 34 530 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. How far was Lincoln conscious of his place in the World's History? Not once but many times he speaks of the Civil War as a struggle for the exist- ence of popular Government universally. If a minority can rise up and nullify the Will of the People constitutionally expressed, that is the end of their rule forever. And this loss is not merely confined to America, but will be the failure of "a great promise to all the people of the World to all time to come" — a defeat not only national but also world-historical. The same thought we hear in the conclusion of the Gettysburg speech, "that government of the People, by the People, for the People, shall not perish from the earth." So Lin- coln always appealed mightily to the Folk-Soul to defend its inheritance of the ages, its institutional freedom through the Union and Constitution, as a boon for all coming time. And the response never failed to rise at the call. Still the People, the Nation, the Folk-Soul, was but one side or element of the great historic proc- ess of the time. What was the other? In this connection may be cited a passage from the first Inaugural: "In our present differences (between North and South) is either party without faith of being in the right? If the Almighty Ruler of Na- tions with His eternal truth and justice, be on your side of the North, or on yours of the South, that truth and that justice will surely prevail by the judgment of this great tribunal of the Ameri- LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. .531 can People." Here are first to be noted the two elements: ''the Almighty Ruler of Nations" on this part and "the American People" on the other. Such is Lincoln's way of designating those two principles or energies to which we have often called attention in this book under the names of World-Spirit and Folk-Soul. ' Moreover, there is also in the extract a hint of the interaction be- tween these two energies. "The Almighty Ruler of Nations" is the ideal bearer of "eternal truth and justice," which must be somehow realized and made to prevail through the "tribunal of the American People" in the present contest between the North and the South. Or we may say, the Spirit ruling the World's History, that is, the World-Spirit with its universal end is to be medi- ated with the Folk-Soul, whose supreme function is to embody and to execute the decree of the World-Spirit at a given historic epoch. But who or what is to mediate these two ener- gies? For "the Almighty Ruler of Nations" does not in these days directly interfere even in those affairs about which he is seemingly most deeply concerned, but He employs some individual as instrument or intermediary — we shall call him a mediator. Now in the above extract Lincoln does not explicitly speak of any such mediator, though this be implied. But at other times not only was such a mediator mentioned by him, but he recog- nized himself to be- performing that mediatorial 532 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. function. This comes out in a passage already cited in another connection: "I shall be most happy indeed if I shall be an humble instrument in the hands of the Almighty and of this his almost chosen People." (see preceding, p. 6). Here are designated the three elemental constituents which go to make every great world-historical process — not only this American one but all. In this sense we may conceive Lincoln as a me- diator, mediating the World-Spirit and the Folk- Soul. He first represents the universal scope and sweep of History marching through a vast and variegated hurly-burly of events toward its goal, which may be ideally conceived as the Federation of Mankind. This World-Spirit is what the Great Man of the given time must commune with and realize in his own particular Nation, which he has also to understand, knowing what it will do and what it will not do . For the Nation also shares instinctively in the movement of Age, and nuist be ready to hear the word and to do the com- mand of the mediator, who is indeed voicing "the Almighty Ruler of Nations." Lincoln, therefore, belongs not alone to his par- ticular Nation, but to all, to the World 's History at one of its epochal conjunctures. Moreover, he was quite conscious of his world-historical vocation and repeatedly expressed it after his manner. In the main this manner of expression took a religious form with him, rather than a scientific or philo- LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 5;]3 sophic. How does "the Almighty Ruler of Na- tions" deal with his ''chosen People" in the grand emergency? As this is largely the theme of the Hebrew Bible, Lincoln seems to have consulted it more than ever before, perhaps more than any other book, during his occupancy of the White House. Some have supposed that he underwent a peculiar religious conversion, and several denom- inations have claimed him as a proselyte. It may be fairly said that he did become more religious and biblical, but he belonged to no church. Ap- parently he was averse to dogmatic religion; still what may be called the God-consciousness was a deeply active principle in him always, and seem- ingly increased in influence to the end. In fact the second Inaugural gives a very de- cided religious view of the great conflict drawing to a close; style and conception are scriptural, and citations are taken directly from the Scriptures. Suggestive is the contrast with the first Inaugural which is legal and argumentative, rather secular throughout, even if it recognizes passingly ''the Almighty Ruler of Nations," who, however, be- comes the all-dominating thought after a four years' baptism of fire. Jefferson Davis was form- ally a more religious man than Lincoln; he was at church engaged in prayer for success when he received news that he must quit Richmond with all speed. Both sides appealed to the same ulti- mate authority; as Lincoln says, "both read the 534 ABRAHAM LIXCOLX—PART THIRD. same Bible and pray to the same God, and each invokes His aid against the other. It may seem strange that any men should dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing their bread from the sweat of other men's faces" — at this point Lincoln stops himself, he will not judge though he has cer- tainly implied judgment — really the judgment of both sides which have received the terrible penalty of their common guilt through the scourge of War. The original guUty deed, the primal ' 'offense" against a just God Lincoln now believes to be the institution of slavery, and doubtless also the Double Union, which is clearly doomed. Thus Lincoln winds up the list of his weighty utterances (he was assassinated a few days after the second Inaugural) with a theodicy or a justification of God in the Civil War, still addressed to the Folk- Soul in its own religious dialect, which is derived from the Hebrew Scriptures, since "both sides read the same Bible," and are inoculated with its language and its conceptions. IV. The Federal Union, therefore, has a world- historical function, which, however, it cannot ful- fil without being deeply transformed. The old Double Union of Slave-States and Free-States had its career which made a Nation, but it could not elevate this Nation to its true place in the Vv'orld's History. Its tendency was to become more and more divided, and slavery was the divider. From this point of view we observe three main divi- LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 535 sio.iis: (1) Free and Slave Persons; (2) Free and Slave States; (3) a Free and Slave Union, which produced also both kinds of States, and conse- quently both kinds of Persons. Hence, it was a Union which had division within itself from the start. Its separative character can be seen in its three great compromises, all of which were new props to keep it from going apart on the cleaving line of slavery. The culmination was secession, in which the rift became complete, and the Union duahzed itself or was tending that way, when the counter-movement began which centered in Lin- coln as the Nation's Executive. The grand turn from Disunion to the new Union was the Civil War, which wiped out the three foregoing differences between freedom and slavery as to Persons, States, and the total Union. A marvelous metamorphosis took place; can we find the pattern after which it was modeled, or, per- chance, the germ out of which it unfolded? Mark the sweep of this transformation: it changes all slaves into freemen, all Slave-States into Free- States, and the Double Union into a Single one, which is Free-State producing only. Such is the undoing of separation, of secession, of the tendency to European .Polyarchy. Still we inquire for the germinal starting-point. If we look into the character of the Union-born Free-States of the North-West, we find all three of the foregoing attributes belonging to them and 536 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. to them alone of the Nation; they held no slaves, they were Free-States, but especially in their case the Union was Free-State producing. And all this they were before the Civil War. And it must be observed that Lincoln came from the North- West and was endowed with its political con- sciousness, which through him largely was to be transferred to the whole Nation. It is legitimate, therefore, to declare that the Union-produced Free-State of the North- West furnished the origi- nal and originating norm, according to which the transformation of the entire Union was to take place. Let us illustrate this matter more fully. In the Nation as a whole there are two important lines of division: the North to South line separates the old, primitive, colonial States which produced the Union, from the new, derived. Union-born States lying chiefly in the I\Iississippi Valley. On the other hand the East to West line separates the Free-States from the Slave-States, both new and old. The result is, we have four different groups of States, or quarterings of the entire country, which we may specially designate (see our Ameri- can Ten Years' War, p. 4^8), in the following scheme : 1. East-Northern Group — Free States, belonging to the Old Thirteen, producers of the Double Union, and sharing in its double State-production. This Group must be transformed by the new Union, LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 537 becoming thus Union-born antl freed of its double State-production. 2. East-Southern Group — Slave-States, belonging to the Old Thirteen, producers of the Double Union, and sharing in its double State-productioiL This Group must be transformed by the new Union, becoming Free-States, and Union-bom, and also productive of Free-States. It will be recognized that both the foregoing Groups belong to the old, Europe-born, colonial Thirteen, which formed the Constitution and the first Union, and made the latter double, both slave and free, which doubleness was indeed their own. Now it is this doubleness as well as the double productivity of the earlier Union which the new Order has to eliminate, both in the South and North. Notable is the fact that the old free East-Northern Group must also undergo a new birth and be regenerated in their Unionism. These States indeed helped make the original Union, and hence they had a tendency to look upon it as something which they could unmake at will, as a kind of contract or revocable compact, though Daniel Webster tried with all his might to argue down this view. But their real reconstruction can only come by a new birth through and into a new Union, which is no longer double as they first made it. So the East-Northern States, though the originals, must be originated again, and, though free, nuist be emancipated again, all 538 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. of them undergoing a kind of palingenesis as to the Union. Lincohi stands as the representative of this work of unionizing afresh even the makers of the Union, the Old Thirteen, Northern as well as Southern. We are, therefore, to see that the conscious- ness of Union in the East-Northern Group is dif- ferent from that of the West-Northern Group, though both Groups are composed of Free-States and are anti-slavery. They, as State-individuals, had made the Union as a kind of agreement or compact between such individuals, and hence why could these not unmake the same if they chose? It is pretty generally agreed that Dis- union was first born and uttered in New England; the first disunionist has been pointed out in a Massachusetts representative. And the Hartford Convention, in spite all elaborate explanations, has never yet been fully explained away. The old foreign-born Thirteen are to be re-born, the whole of them, both Northern and Southern, through and into a new Union, and thus become Union-born, which fact produces for the first time a true homogeneous Union. 3. W est-N ortheryi Group — Free-States, but origi- nally born of the Union which in their case is, accordingly, Free-State producing. This fact is wljat makes them unique among the four Groups. Mother Union has brought them forth as free commonwealths, and them alone; such is their LINCOLX THE XATIOX'S EXECUTIVE. 539 original birthright of freedom, which they will in time impart to all the other three Groups, fur- nishing the prototype after which they are all to be transformed. We have already heard Lincoln, the West-Northern voice and representative, de- clare that the Double Union, formed by the old Thirteen, must come to an end. Also we have seen him start by trying to exclude slavery from the Territories, that is, by trying to take away the double productivity of the old Double Union. His election meant that the South should be practically deprived of its genetic power, of its State-prot hie- ing power; this probably more than anything else drove it into rebellion, which, however, had the result of destroying slavery in the States where it already existed, that is, of making the Union Free-State producing universally. Thus the W^est- Northern political norm nationalizes itself com- pletely, we may say, universalizes itself within its sphere. 4. West-Southern Group — Slave-States, also born of the Union, which in their case is, accordingly, Slave-State producing. This Group divides within itself during the Civil War; the upper tier (Ken- tucky and Missouri) remained faithful to the Union of which they were born, while the two lower tiers, constituting seven States, seceded, but were gradually overcome by the Northern army. Such were the four Groups of States, two free and two slave, each of them having a different 540 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. relation to the old Union. But the time has ar- rived when they all must be made over into Free- States, and the Union must also be transformed in accord with the West-Northern norm of its own State creation. As the Union produced the North-West free, so the North-West must go back and reproduce the Union free. This is the grand national turn, yea world-historical we may call it, of which Lincoln was the pivot, the Great Man of the Age, who first voiced the new decree of the World-Spirit to the Folk-Soul and then took the chief hand in carrying it into execution, as the Nation's Executive. V. And now must be recorded another historic fact about this West-Northern Group : its soldiers won the great positive victories for the Union dur- ing the Civil War. The West-Northern army took the offensive at the start, and largely kept it to the end, till it practically overran and held ten of the eleven seceded States. It swept down the Mississippi to Vicksburg, then whirled eastward to Chattanooga, to Savannah, then turned northward toward Virginia. At last it surrounded Lee at Richmond, not directly with entrenchments, as these were held by the Army of the Potomac, but with an effective cordon which cut off all further supplies of men, munitions, and even provisions, . from the Confederate Capital. The West-North- ern Army was, therefore, mightily present at Ap- pomattox, though not in body . It fact it was not LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 541 permitted to leave North Carolina where it was compelled to stay practically unoccupied before the far inferior force of General J. E. Johnston. Upon this pivotal point the most important man engaged in the transaction, Grant himself, has borne witness. He is about to tell what he strongly urged upon the President in a personal interview at Petersburg, the next day after its capture (Grant's Memoirs, II, p. 459). "Mr. Lincoln knew that it had been arranged for Sherman to join me at a fixed time to co-op- erate in the destruction of Lee's army." This had been the President's plan and order, which Grant secretly changed. But when the first success had been attained and Petersburg was taken, ''I no longer had any object in concealing from the Pres- ident all my movements and the objects I had in view. ... I told him that I had been very anxious to have the eastern armies vanquish their old enemy who had so long resisted all their re- peated and gallant attempts to subdue them or drive them from the Capital." Here Grant ac- knowledges the failure of the East-Northern army in all its offensive campaigns, his own included, perhaps unconsciously. He goes on: "The West- ern armies had been in the main successful until they had conquered all the territory from the Mississippi River to the State of North Carolina and were now almost ready to knock at the back- door of Richmond, asking admittance. I said to 542 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. him that if the Western armies should even be upon the field, operating against Richmond and Lee, the credit would be given them for the capture by politicians and non-combatants from the sec- tion of country which those troops hailed from." We have to imagine liincoln's suppressed humor at the statement having a little secret tilt all to itself: Rather hard on me, General, who am a compound of all three of these rather reprehensible objects — a politician, a Westerner, and a non- combatant. But Grant continues quite oblivious of Lincoln' s quizzical smile: "It might lead to disagreeable bickerings between members of Con- gress of the East and those of the West in some of their debates . Western members might be throw- ing it up to members of the East that in the sup- pression of the rebellion they were not able to cap- ture an army. . . l^ut had to wait until the Western armies had conquered all the territory south and west of, them, and then come on and help them capture the only army they had been engaged with." One might query whether those intrusive Westerners were not already "knocking at the back door of Richmond," with Sherman in North Carolina, with Thomas at Knoxville, and with Stoneman making for Lynchburg . At any rate "the Western armies should not be permitted to be even upon the field." Still Grant was right, he expressed the sensitiveness of the East-Northern army under his command, a feeling of deep dissat- LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 543 isfaction with itself which it was well to remove as far as possible before the end of the war. Such was Grant's spoken motive, but he had another unspoken one, at least not mentioned in his ac- count. Very little does Grant say about Lincoln in this matter, simply reporting him to declare that he ''had never thought of it before," and that "he did not care where the aid came from, so the work was done." He assented to Grant's change of programme, which was to keep at a distance "the Westerti armies," for these were cer- tain to get the whole credit of capturing Lee if they were even on the field. Here the student of Lincoln has again to supply what that infin- itely humorous and kindly spirit w^as thinking about. For Lincoln must have at once penetrated the unspoken motive of Grant, since it lay not far from the surface, and, when he was again alone, he could not help having a little voiceless colloquy with himself: Yes, my dear General, I hope you will at the very last tug be able to lead that courageous and devoted East-Northern army' to one positive victory, different from its two de- fensive victories, Antietam and Gettysburg. I have been trying to get that out of it for four years, hitherto without success, whatever be the cause. And you, personally. General, I hope you will redeem yourself from the record of the bat- tles of the Wilderness, Cold Harbor, the mine of 544 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. Petersburg, and add a new surrender to those of Fort Donelson and Vicksburg, completing the triple crown of you;* triumphs. The reader still to-day cannot help supplying this unspoken motive to Grant's narrative, and certainly Lincoln must have thought of it, since it pertained to a matter which had given him the greatest anxiety during the recent months. Will Grant also fail with that East-Northern army? Grant's military career, in fact his whole life, consists of a succession of mighty ups and downs, of colossal ascents and descents, having a tendency to describe a series of huge parabolas, winding up in that last rapid rise to Appomattox. VI. Grant adds, after giving the cited account a little comment of his own: ''I never expected any such bickering as I have indicated, between the sol- diers of the two sections," but only between politic- ians and non-combatants (Memoirs, 11,461, written probably about twenty years after the War). Yet the returned "soldiers of the two sections," or rather of the two armies, have certainly not failed to en- gage in ''bickerings" or animated discussions, which have sometimes reached the point of caus- ing a loss of temper in one or both of the disput- ants. In fact to-day the Western soldier, full of the history of the conflict and its problems, can hardly meet an Eastern veteran and get to know him fairly well without asking him: 'Tell me, comrade, what in your opinion was the matter LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 545 with the Army of the Potomac? It is the greatest mystery of the War to my mind; I have been putting that question or a similar one to its veterans for more than forty years, and have re- ceived a hundred different answers, besides those contained in books, and I am still puzzled. For instance I cannot make up my mind whether McClcllan hypnotized the Army or the Army hypnotized McClellan, who was a bold, aggressive soldier, always ready to seize the initiative, up to the time when he took command of it. And the confession will have to be made that Grant went with it into his deepest eclipse, even if he emerged again. The soldiers of that Army were certainly as brave, as devoted as those of the West, and were better disciplined; and in the ability to get on their legs again for a fresh fight after defeat upon defeat they stand unparalleled in history, I believe. But so much the more unac- countable becomes their career; the psychology of the Army of the Potomac remains to me the mys- tery of the War." In answer to the veteran dozens of reasons might be and have been given, such as incompe- tency of the commanding generals, incompetency of the authorities" at Washington, bad strategy, undue political interference, and so on through the whole gamut of blame. Some and perhaps most of these censures have their justice; still the prob- lem seems unsolved and insoluble. But the interest 35 546 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. for us now is that Lincoln had the burden of this problem weighing him down for quite four years, almost without rehef till the very last days of his life. Whatever may have been to his mind the source of the trouble, he kept silent about it. Still, as he was a deep thinker, he could not help having his view, which must at times have indi- rectly escaped him in spite of his secrecy. So we scrutinize his words and acts to see if we cannot find a possible indication of his opinion. In this connection we may cite some documents which stop the reader rather startlingly, and throw him into a long and deep meditation, when he comes upon them in the Works of Lincoln (Nicolay & Hay, II, p. 241), Lincoln had been informed that an officer of the Army of the Po- tomac, Major John J. Key, had been asked "Why was not the rebel army bagged immediately after the battle near Sharpsburg?" Whereupon Major Key made the following reply: "That is not the game. The object is that neither army shall get much the advantage of the other, that both shall be kept in the field till they are exhausted, when we will make a compromise and save slavery," The President summoned the officer into his immediate presence, the statement was proved and indeed not denied by the officer, when Lincoln endorsed upon it the following thunder- bolt: "In my view it is wholly inadmissible for any g(Mitleman holding a military commission from the LIXCOLX THE XATION'S EXECUTIVE. 547 United States to utter such sentiments as Major Key is within proved to have -done. Therefore let Major John J. Key be forthwith dismissed from the miUtary service of the United States." This seems, on the face of it, the harshest if not the most arbitraiy act recorded of Lincoln. That he should treat with such severity a few careless words dropped at random in private conversation and reported to him, is so contrary to his ordi- nary kindly nature that he must have felt some deep provocation, as well as some strong neces- sity of making an example. Of course the dis- missed officer sought to have the stigma removed by being restored to his rank. His request calls from Lincoln the following statement: "I had been brought to fear that there was a class of officers in the army, not very incon- siderable in numbers, who were playing a game to not beat the enemy when they could, on some peculiar notion of saving the Union; and when you were proved to me in your own presence to have avowed yourself in favor of the game, and did not attempt to controvert the proof, I dis- missed you as an example and a warning to that supposed class." The date of Major Key's dismissal is September 27th, 1862, some ten days after the battle of An- tietam, when McClellan with not far from 30,000 fresh troops had refused to pursue Lee, but had let him escape with his booty across the Potomac. 548 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. What was the matter? A profound cHstrust seized the country, which felt the "game" alluded to above. Greeley already had referred to it in his letter previously cited. But chiefly upon Lincoln crept a gnawing, never-ceasing anxiety in regard to the defenders of the seat of Government. There is no doubt that a deep-seated malady had entered that organism known as the Army of the Potomac. Lincoln's diagnosis of it is at least suggested in his reason for the dismissal of Major Key. Also in the same case he administered a little dose of medicine for the cure of the disease. Finally he had to strike at w^hat he and many others deemed the head of the trouble; he re- moved McClellan from command, to whom, how- ever, the army remained devoted, and who was and continued to be its ideal chief. After him it evolved no general equal to him; in fact its commanders seem to have been patterned after him, lesser McClellans. Finally Lincoln in despair placed over it a leader who had been deve-oj^ed in the West. But did even Grant transform the inner character of that army? Rather were there not signs of its transforming him? McClellan says in his book that, on hearing of his removal, "many were in favor of my refusing to obey the order and of marching on Washington to take possession of the Government." These were undoubtedly the people to whom Lincoln alludes as "a class of officers in the army, not very incon- LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 549 siderable in numbers, who were playing a game" lilie that mentioned by Major Key. Of course this meant the subordination of the civil to the military branch of Government. Such a con- sciousness was deeply implanted in McClcllan, as we see both by his words and actions, and he or- ganized it into his army, which of course must have been capable of taking such an impress. The next year at Gettysburg a rumor ran through the embattled ranks that McClellan had been recalled and was in conmiand ; many a survivor of that bloody conflict will tell how the soldiers felt their ardor renewed at the thought of fighting under their old commander. It is evident that McClellan and his East-North- ern Army were contending for the old Double Union, which had to be restored, in their view, with slavery. And therein they were not unlike the States whence they came, the free Common- wealths of the original Thirteen which had helped to make the old Union double, both slave and free. The new Union as Free-State producing, was not theirs or their pohtical consciousness, even if they may have voted for Lincoln. Cer- tainly they had no principle or power in them for conquering the South. If Lee, moving northward, passed a certain line of division, he was beaten back; if the East-Northern Army, moving south- ward, passed what was practically that same line of division, it was defeated. The bloody seesaw 550 ABRAHAM LINCOLN—PART THIRD. continued four years upon the same small piece of territory between Washington and Richmond; neither side could conquer the other, though each could and did repel the other defensively. The line of separation became fixed between the two armies; the logic of the situation could only be that the Union was dissolved, as far as they were concerned. And as that was the object of the secessionists, the victory belonged to the South. History demands that these things be said now, in spite of a certain sensitiveness not yet out- grown, if we wish to grasp the real sweep and meaning of our Civil War, doubtless the most im- portant event of the century from the world- historical viewpoint. To the Old North and to the Old South the Union was something which they had made and could again unmake, was an agreement from which either could withdraw at will; their two armies after much fighting had practically proved the same proposition, and had drawn in blood over and over again the line of separation. But how about the new States of the West? The Union in their case was something which they had not made but which had made them, and so could not be their compact, even if it were a compact to the East. To them the Union was politically genetic, was State-producing, and not the product of States ; hence in the West the Union took a different, yea, opposite character to what it had in the East. Moreover, the West LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 551 showed its productive power in the matter of leadership, both political and military. Leaving out Lincoln as the exception of all exceptions, there would seem to be something significant in the fact that the four greatest generals of the Northern cause were developed in and by the Western Army — Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Thomas. Small power of evolving great captains was shown by the Army of the Potomac, though many trials were made, resulting in grand disas- ters. The really creative principle of the whole war, that the Union must be productive of the Free-States, and hence productive of all instru- mentalities for making them free — armies, gen- erals, statesmen — seems decidedly to have had its chief source of energy in the North- West. We hold, therefore, that the difference between the okl and the new Free-States, between the East and the West, was reflected in their respective armies, both as to character and career. The Western troops, like their States, were Free-State producing by their very origin; they, and they alone, as events showed, could make, or rather re- make, the Union like themselves. So it comes that they did practically the offensive fighting of the War; their function was to regenerate the whole Nation, according to their origin or their creative type, after first seizing the hostile portions of it by military power. Li this deed, not only national but world-historical, Lincoln was their 552 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. leader and supreme representative. The Union had made their States free, and now they were to re- quite the act and make the Union free. At this pivotal turn, truly a node of the World's History, stands the colossal historic figure of Abraham Lin- coln. VII. The poHtical tendency of McClellan and of his army had brought early and constantly before Lincoln's mind the great danger of War to the RepubHc. The successful General in the very nature of his vocation could not help having a bent toward overriding the civil power. Fre- mont and Hunter, military commanders, had dared usurp a function which could only belong to the highest political authority, to the Presi- dency itself, in issuing Emancipation Proclama- tions. Lincoln did not pretend to be deeply read in European History, but he did know that its greatest military heroes, Caesar, Cromwell, Na- poleon, had overthrown the civil institutions of their respective countries. The soldiery follow- ing its idolized leader had always shown itself ready to install him as ruler in disregard of the Law. McClellan rather boasts that there was such a spirit in his army, though he could hardly be called a great victorious General. The or- ganization and discipline of the American army were derived from Europe, which, with one or two exceptions, is or was a cluster of military LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 553 monarchies. The professional soldier must get to be an absolutist both in commanding and obey- ing. Still the necessity of a vast military es- tablishment was upon the American Nation, and could not be avoided. While employing it, can we escape at the same time its supreme menace to our free political government? There is no doubt that Lincoln kept this problem vividly be- fore himself always. He had to find a successful General in order to win the victoiy, then he had to guard against the backstroke of such a vic- tory with such a General. Is Lincoln mighty enough, after bringing the military arm to its highest efficiency, to control it and not to be con- trolled by it? Such is the severest personal test to which the crisis is subjecting the President. General Lee had been made almost if not quite the military dictator of the Confederacy, and taking as a pretext some reported words of Grant, had proposed a military convention for adjusting "the subject of controversy between the belliger- ents." Thus the War was to be settled by the two military chieftains at the head of their respective armies, instead of the civil powers. Grant did not reject these overtures, but sent thorn to Washington, seemingly in order to get instructions. The telegram was handed to Lin- coln who at once wrote ' out the following order and gave it to Stanton with the request to send it to Grant: 554 ABRAHAM LIN COLS— PART THIRD. "The President directs me to say tliat he wishes you to have no conference with General Lee un- less it be for the capitulation of General Lee's army, or on some minor or purely military matter. He instructs me to say that you are not to decide, discuss, or confer upon any political ques- tions. Such questions the President holds in his own hands, and will submit them to no military conferences or conventions. Meanwhile you are to press to the utmost your military advantages." A very decided authoritative tone runs through this order, which Lincoln must have felt to be imperatively necessary. The subordination of the miUtary to the political power in the Gov- ernment could not be more firmly asserted. Lin- coln did not suspect that Grant had any inten- tion of usurping a function which did not belong to him. Still Lincoln through his own experience had good reason to be on his guard against the unconscious tendency of the military profes- sion. We would have gladly heard Grant's com- ment on the foregoing order in his Memoirs, but we cannot find that it is mentioned. It is dated March 3rd; 1865, the day before the second inaug- uration of Lincoln, and must be deemed a very significant and timely utterance. And yet, in spite of its emphatic words, Grant forgot it five weeks later, when he wrote the terms of Lee's sur- render at Appomattox. Unconsciously he exer- cised the pardoning power which belonged to the LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 555 President, decreeing that "each officer and man will be allowed to return to their homes, not to be disturbed by United States authority so long as they observe their parole." Quite forgotten was Lincoln's incisive prohibition: "You will not de- cide, discuss, or confer upon any political ques- t'ons." Lincoln would probably have given as good or even better terms; but he was the person to give them: ''Such questions (political) the President holds in his own hands." Grant in his Memoirs is evidently defending himself against later criticism in saying: "When I put my pen to the paper, I did not know the first word I should use in writing the terms." He never thought of the political aspect of his agreement with Lee, he did not have in mind his political subordination. A still greater violation was committed by Sher- man in his articles of capitulation for Johnston's army, so that they had to be revoked, Grant himself so declaring. But nobody can seriously think that Grant or Sherman ever intended any disregard of the supreme civil authority over them; their personal attitude toward Lincoln was one of atlmiration and love, very different from that of McClcUan. The real point of the ar- gument is that their infraction of the political power was unconscious, unpurposed, a spontaneous outburst of their military character and training; but all the more it showed the native bent of mil- itarism to forget civism. Now Lincoln during his 556 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. whole term was kept aware of this tendency through its repeated outbreaks in leading army officers, but he was able to maintain and to trans- mit the supremacy of the political government of the country. At any rate, after having militarized the whole Nation for years, we escaped the military despo- tism, and even the military dictatorship, which European History had so often shown to be the natural outcome of such a prolonged Civil War . Indeed hundreds of prophecies were wafted over to us from Europe, with the one burden: Your Caesar is in training and will soon appear. But he never came, though he would probably have come in Europe with its system of military monarchies. .A new stage of the World's History, wholly different from the European, has arrived, with a fresh historic message. The new Hero of the People is not to be mihtary but civil— Lincoln. Very characteristic is the fact that the chief heroic figure in the greatest of wars could hardly be called warlike — was a civilian, not a general. That simply reverses European History, and indicates an altogether different political order and a dif- ferent political consciousness. To be sure, we did not wholly escape from some lesser manifestations of militarism in arbitrary ar- rests, in suppressions of newspapers, in unneces- sary interference with the civil process by depart- ment connnanders of the Northern States. The LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 557 record shows that Lincoln disliked this tendency, and counteracted it whenever possible. The Peo- ple also were averse to it, though strongly sup- porting the Government. Still the military power . did enough to show its native character, and to indicate the danger which it might bring upon our kind of political institution. VIII . Very necessary is it now to bring to a close this account of Lincoln. In the present Period he is the center of a vast swirl of events and per- sons, all of them bearing some relation to him. There can be no attempt here even to mention the intricate movements, both political and military, during the War. Lincoln's biography expands almost into a biography of the Nation, whose Will he becomes emphatically, realizing in action its deepest instinct and aspiration. To be sure, he still employs the word, speaking to the People with a wonderful effect; Lincoln's addresses, letters, messages, are the most important docu- ments in the literature of War, intrinsically so and not merely by virtue of their official authority. Lincoln is still the voice of the World-Spirit to the Folk-Soul; in fact he is more, he gets to be the latter's schoolmaster, putting it under training till it performs the supernal behest. Like ancient Per- icles, he disciplines his people with his w^ord when they are backward in stepping up to their task. Often enough have we already declared that the grand theme of Lincoln is the Federal Union. This 558 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD Union he will primarily preserve: not only will he preserve it but also emancipate it by freeing it of its great enemy which has always divided it; and n Dt only will he emancipate it, but also transform it from the old Double Union into the new One Union, making the latter institutional. The half- a:id-halfness he is to overcome completely, as well negatively from the outside, as also positively from the inside ; he will undo secession by the arm of power, but the greater thing is, he will make it undo itself. The seceded States have first to be unionized, then they are to unionize themselves. Three distinct stages of a great process we can see in this matter: Preservation, Emancipation, aud Reconstruction of the Union. This may well be deemed the germinal process of Lincoln's achieve- ment during the War. 1. Preservation of the Union. The first act of Lincoln as the Nation's Executive is to preserve the Union. He is to rouse and to fortify the con- sciousness of the Union in its supremacy over the single State. That is his first and immediate task, whereby he consolidates all true Unionists, North- ern and Southern. He keeps the upper tier of Slave-States, and arms them in the cause. We may well deem this the primal great political act of Lincoln : he divides the South and unites the North. The doing of this work and the solidifying of it so that it could not be uiid(nie, occuj)ied him chiefly LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 559 for a year to a year and a half (1861-2). The Union which he sought to preserve, was the old Double Union, which he had sworn to maintain, if he could, with slavery. But maintain it he must, if the necessity comes, without slavery. First, however, he has to train the Folk-Soul, and per- chance be trained himself, to the absolute primacy of the Union, and with it the consequent right of Coercion, It is generally agreed that this first policy of Lincoln won the Border Slave States and a large portion of the Democrats of the North. If these two elements had been alienated at the start, the War could hardly have succeeded. Lincoln was a son of Kentucky, and he kept it from following ^^irginia, to which it was closely allied in blood, in history and in institutions. At the same time Lincoln never retracted his principle that there should be no more Slave States made out of the territories. And he doubtless still believed his more sweeping proposition that the Union cannot endure half slave and half free, though at present his position and liis oath required him to say: "if I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it." The anti-slavery people, partic- ularly those of New England, needed a lesson in unionism, which he gave them in his letter to Greeley. On the other hand the pro-slavery unionists of the Border States must also be brought to assert the unconditional Primacv of 560 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. the Union, which is heard in Lincohi's declara- tion: ''if I could save the Union by freeing all oi the slaves, I would do it." Thus he puts his anti- slavery and his pro-slavery supporters under training, which finally unites both sides, otherwise so antagonistic, in a common purpose : Union is first, the supreme end to be attained; slavery is the means, it will be preserved or destroyed ac- cording to necessity. To be sure, each side did not fail to talk angrily, to protest and sometimes to threaten; still they stayed and fought together with Lincoln. If the moral aspect were to be exclusively taken, anti-slavery and pro-slavery could never have agreed; each thought itself right morally, and the other wrong, and perchance fanatical. Moreover each side in its excess had a tendency to turn dis- unionists; the Northern Garrisonians were openly hostile to the Union, and regarded the Constitu- tion as "an agreement with Hell and a covenant with death." Lincoln, though undoubtedly anti- slavery, suppressed this moral dualism and clung to the Union, thus saving it and bringing all its supporters for its sake to destroy slavery. Such an education, however, requires time; but finally the hour strikes and practically all unionists, Northern and Southern, are brought to take the next great step with the President. 2. Emancipation of the Union. And now Lin- coln has reached the point of smiting slavery as -^s. LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 561 the source or cause of division in the Union since its formation. He starts to unionizing the entire country by destroying the original root of disun- ion. He makes himself Free-State producing, the Nation's Executive vindicates the Nation as a whole. "I do order and declare that all persons held as slaves within said designated States and parts of States [now in rebellion] are and hence- forth shall be free." Will we hear in this sentence, the voice of the People in its one representative Self. "The Executive Government of the United States, including the military and naval authori- ties thereof will recognize and maintain the free- dom of said persons." From one point of view Emancipation is a negative act, it destroys an al- ready existent institutional order based on slavery. But in the deeper aspect it destroys what had shown itself destructive of the Union, which is the supreme National object, as well as the new purpose of the World's History. Emancipation, then, is really a negation of a negative, and at bottom is the destroyer of destruction. President Lincoln declares that he issues the Proclamation of Emancipation ''by virtue of the power in me vested as commander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States," and that he regards it "as a fit and necessary war measure" for the suppression of rebellion. He does not base his edict of freedom upon moral grounds, as the wrongfulness of slavery ; he claims it to be ulti- 36 562 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. mately a Constitutional act, done for the purpose of saving the Constitution. There is no doubt that Lincohi had given to the subject a great deal of thought and had gradually evolved into the method and the moment. He must keep his ground of action institutional, otherwise he would divide his supporters, many of whom would not take part in a moral crusade against slavery. And there was a still deeper reason : as the grand purpose and end of the War the idea of the Union must remain all-dominating with its world-historical mission. Emancipation is not to supplant the Union as the supreme object of the contest, it must be strictly kept in its place as means. This is a point which still should be emphasized, if we may judge by recent histories and biographies. Emancipation is not to be dis- located from where Lincoln put it, being the sec- ond grand act in bringing forth the new Union. The first act, as simply preservative of the old Double Union, had shown itself inadequate to meet secession, which must next be deprived of its enforced help through slaves. These are not only to be freed, but when of suitable condition ''will be received into the armed service of the United States to garrison forts, positions, stations and other places, and to man vessels of all sorts in said service," The slave is suddenly transformed into a freeman and a soldier fighting for the liberty of his race. Later something of the kind was LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 563 proposetl on the part of the Confederates, who were at first very bitter in their censure of the Proclamation of Emancipation. The date of the instrument is January 1st, 1863, notice having been given a hundred days before. Emancipation is primarily a negative act, we re- peat; the fetters were struck from the slave by an external blow, but that did not make him intern- ally free. Its function was to smite the separator of the Union, which was to be no longer slave and free, no longer double. It was a military measure to preserve the United-States united. Lincoln was careful to put it into its true place as a nega- tive violent act of war rendered necessary by the emergency. But now comes the more difficult problem. The States in rebellion are struck down by war and by emancipation; breathing still they lie not quite dead, though not active and indeed not capable of action in their present paralysis. How can they be brought to perform their function again under the new conditions? For if the Federal Union is to be truly restored, they must be restored to their normal life and political activity. In this sphere lies Lincoln's third great effort during the War. 3. Reconstruction of the Union. Under the date of December 8th, 1863, we possess two documents of Lincoln which outline his plan of restoring the seceded States to their proper place in the Union. 564 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. (See Lincoln's Works, Vol. II., p. 442 and p. 445). The problem is, How can these States, undone first by their own deed of secession and then by the desolation of war, be made over again into living members of the national organism? Lin- coln's way was, in general, that the loyal citizens should make the start, should hold a convention which would repeal the act of secession, form a new constitution, and abolish slavery. Above all, let the question be passed over "whether the seceded States, so-called, are in the Union or out of it," which he brands as "a merely pernicious abstraction," practically good for nothing, yet with the power of stirring up boundless strife among friends. Lincoln held that a seceded State might be re- constructed when one-tenth of its voters in 18G0 should take the requisite oath, whose form is care- fully written out by him in the Proclamation of December 8th, 1863, which bears the title, ''Pro- clamation of Amnesty and Reconstruction." Lin- coln held that no State could legally secede, and thus break up the Union. If that were so, ''I am not President, these gentlemen are not Congress." On the other hand no State could constitutionally be deprived of Statehood. Congress could not abolish slavery in a State, such had been the oft- repeated doctrine of the Republican party. Nor could the President abolish slavery except as a war measure, which, when peace came, might be LINCOLN THE NATION'S ENECUTIVE. .'5(35 set aside by the Courts. A State could abolish slavery within its limits, but could also revoke any such enactment. Lincoln saw that the only way by which freedom could be made secure was through a Constitutional Amendment. Hence he was so urgent for its adoption. He lived to see it passed by both Houses of Congress and sent to the States, whose ratification of it he did not behold. Still, the Thirteenth Amendment is the work of Lincoln and the crown of his Constitutional labors. Here it is: "Neither Slavery nor involuntary ser- vitude, except as a punishment of crime, whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist within the United States, or any place sub- ject to their jurisdiction." The wording of this Amendment is essentially that of the Wilmot Proviso, for which Lincobi voted so often during his Congressional career. But the Wilmot Proviso applied only to the terri- tories to be made into new States, whereas this Amendment applies to the already existent Slave- States, new and old. Thus that Proviso is com- pletely nationalized, we may say, universalized. But the words reach back much further, namely, to the Ordinance of 1787, which declared in the Sixth Section: "There shall be neither Slavery nor involuntary servitude in said Territory [North- western], otherwise than in the punishment of crimes whereof the party shall have been duly convicted." The Ordinance of the Continental 566 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. Congress has started the pro(hiction of the West- Northern Group of Free-States, which, accord- ingly, began before the formation of the Consti- tution and of the Union. What part, both political and military, this Group took in the Civil War, has been already briefly indicated. Signifi- cant is the fact that the very words which are used to make it free, are again used to make the whole Union free. It may be added that these words have been traced back to a report made by Thomas Jefferson to the Continental Congress in 1784, which report, however, was not then adopted. Thus early we note the tendenc}^ of the American People to be Free-State producing through their government. The Thirteenth Amendment has, therefore, be- hind it a considerable evolution. Still we may deem it Lincoln's own deed, and it is the culmina- tion of his Reconstruction of the Union. It is the finished side of which Emancipation is the start. It completes the three great acts in the drama of Lincoln as the Nation's Executive — Preservation, Emancipation, Reconstruction. Moreover, it strik- ingly fulfils Lincoln's prophecy: This Nation can- not endure permanently half slave and half free. Still further, it rounds out with a capstone the whole life of Lincoln as the mediator of the World- Spirit at a given stage of the World's History with the American Folk-Soul, which has realized more adequately through him, its reiJi'esentati\^e, LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 567 the Federated Union of States as distinct from the European and Oriental forms of Government. It should be added that Lincoln's Reconstruc- tion of the Union met with much opposition. But he clung '"to it till his death. He knew that each seceded State must ultimately reconstruct itself, and his object was to give it a chance as soon as possible. The obstacles were mainly three: (1) the hostility and indifference of the States them- selves, though Lincoln kept urging them to act quickly before external interference might delay or thwart their new Statehood; (2) the military men of the Union Army, believing in military govern- ment in accord with their character, would govern them by force like conquered European provinces (read his strong admonitions to Generals Hurlbut and Canby about the Louisiana State Government, November and December, 1854). But the chief obstacle (3) was the attitude of Congress, which claimed the right of Reconstruction. Lincoln, ' however, stood his ground and was stronger with the People than Congress, which knew the fact well. But after the death of Lincoln the new President, Andrew Johnson, brought to the surface all the latent conflicts of the time, and there fol- lowed the shameful period of Reconstruction so- called, which would probably have never been, had Lincoln lived. Still his main work of restoration was practically saved at last, after many years. IX. The regeneration of the whole Union 568 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. through the Civil War Lincohi began to impress upon the People, especially after proclaiming Emancipation. In his Gettysburg address we may hear him talking to the Folk-Soul, and exhorting it "that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this Nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom." This hints that the old dual Nation nmst be transformed and regenerated. Then follow the words which have become the Nation's own confession of faith: ''that Government of the People, by the People, and for the People, shall not perish from the earth," Thus the Folk-Soul is reminded and becomes conscious through such reminder, which is that it is fighting for a cause not limited to the territory of the United States, but belongs to the whole earth — a cause not only national but world-historical. The careful reader will note that in the fore- going expression three things are stated, and that there is indicated a triple process of thought: (1) the People are to be governed, are to have a Government over them; (2) they are to govern themselves through such Government organized by themselves ; (3) the end of such Government is the good of People themselves as a whole. This gives, of course very briefly, the psychical round of American political consciousness, upon which alone the American Government can be based, and of which it is the supreme institutional manifestation. LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE 569 Lincoln was the man who made universally current the expression "Government of the Peo- ple, by the People, for the People," so that the People themselves have appropriated it as a defi- nition of their own political institution. But it was uttered long before Lincoln spoke it at Gettys- burg ; in fact he seems almost to cite it as something well known. And it certainly was well known to lawyers. For it is contained in a very famous decision by the greatest of American Jurists, Chief Justice Marshall, who uses (in McCulloch vs. Maryland) the following statement: "It is the Government of all; its powers are delegated by all; it represents all and acts for all." Thfs has the thought, though it is not so complete or so concise as the expression of Lincoln ; still it has its advantage of affirming the allncss or universality of the Government, and of emphasizing the fact that ours is a mediated or representative Government, not a pure Democracy like ancient Athens. This peculiar stress is highly characteristic of Marshall. In the same decision the Chief Justice gives the same thought a somewhat different turn: It is "a Government of the People ; its powers are granted by them, and are to be exercised on them and for their benefit. " Lincoln, not only as a lawyer but as a student of national politics, had in all prob- ability read this decision which is deemed one of Marshall's greatest. Many years afterwarfl. Daniel Webster, who 570 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. was an attorney in the preceding case of McCul- loch vs. Maryland, employed in the Senate of the United States a similar locution: ''It is, Sir, the People's Government made for the People, made by the People and answerable to the People." This occurs in Webster's reply to Hayne, a speech which Lincoln must have almost known by heart. Herndon reports of Lincoln, while writing the first Inaugural: ''He called for Webster's reply to Hayne, a speech which he read when he lived at New Salem, and which he always regarded as the grandest specimen of American oratory." Possibly he found this speech originally in one of the newspa- pers of his Post-ofRce Hat. At any rate the expres- sion under consideration must have become known to Lincoln through Webster, whose fame scattered it far and wide, making it familiar to all who favored the supremacy of the Union against Nul- lification and the doctrine of State Sovereignty. In this earlier contest for the Union, Lincoln deeply shared (see preceding pp. 152-6). From Webster the expression was disseminated in New England, where it became seemingly a favorite with Theodore Parker. Herndon relates (see Herndon and Weik's Lincoln, II, p. 65) that on his return from the East, 'T brought with me additional sermons and lectures by Theodore Parker. One of these lectures was on The Effect of Slavery on the American People, which I gave to Lincoln who read and returned it. He liked LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 571 especially the following expression which he marked with a pencil, and which he in sub- stance afterwards used in his Gettysburg address: 'Democracy is direct self-government, over all the People, for all the People, by all the People.'" Here we have to say that Lincoln did not hold that our Democracy was direct or immediate self- government; he leaves that out of his Gettys- burg address and all others. Ours is a mediated, representative self-government — a fact which Mar- shall's statement brings out strongly, as already noted. In spite of Herndon, we have to think that the expression had long been known to Lin- coln, and to many other people. Still Lincoln has made the expression an integral part of the American consciousness, which uses it as a kind of formula for defining itself polit- ically, and thus becoming aware of itself as com- pletely self-governing. Every school boy cons it and commits it to memory. Great principles are usually uttered long before they become popular, and by a different man from the one who makes them popular. Often the solitary thinker, sage, poet, prophet, jurist throws out the maxim which in time is to become epoch-making, being taken up into the Folk-Soul and thereby truly realized. At Gettysburg Lincoln seized the occasion or the right psychologic moment to transform an old floating expression into an eternal utterance of the People for knowing itself. For the Folk-Soul 572 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. also must become self-conscious in regard to its own deepest character and destiny . We have al- ready often noted Lincoln as its voice speaking to it the behest of the World-Spirit at the given time. The other famous statement of Lincoln that the nation cannot endure half slave and half free, had often been said in substance before him. But no speaker ever brought it horae to the People and caused them to make it a reality ex- cept Lincoln. LTndoubtedly the time had to be ready and the opportunity to be given; Civiliza- tion, Progress, Providence, the World-Spirit, hav- ing reached a stage in the movement toward its goal, bids the epoch-making mandate which the Great Man hears and voices to his People who are to realize it in the world. X. Lincoln was assassinated on the 14th of April, 1865. The rebellion had been put down; the work of reconstructing the Union Lincoln had already begun, and had carried so far that it could not be again undone, though it might be and was retarded, and indeed for a time perverted. That prophecy with which the Lincolniad proper starts — "this Nation cannot endure permanently half slave and half free" — has been fulfilled, chiefly through Lincoln himself. And his entire biog- raphy, when viewed in its total process, gives a sense of completeness, even if the thread of life was shorn off by a sudden act of violence. He died, after having made himself harmonious with LINCOLN THE NATION'S EXECUTIVE. 573 the Folk-Soul and it harmonious with himself, yea, after having made the disunited and warring Folk-Soul harmonious with itself by casting out its deepest dualism, into which, indeed, it was born. Thus we may say that through Lincoln as leader the Union and also the Constitution were able to get rid of their hereditary curse. Great is it for the individual to free himself of his ancestral taint, but greater is it for the nation through its Great Man to perform such an act of self-purification. Looking back at the biographical career of Lin- coln in its total sweep, we observe that his First Period was his intimate life and acquaintance with the People, his Apprenticeship to the Folk- Soul, as we have named it; but in the Second Period occurred his great alienation within and without, which he had to overcome theoretically in himself, in his People, and especially in his antitype Douglas, as the representative of the Double Nation — all of which brings him face to face with the deepest separation of his time and Nation, namely, Disunion. This is what he prac- tically eliminates in his Third Period, reproducing in the Nation his own inner harmony, and return- ing to the primial unity of himself with the Folk- Soul, which unity is not now immediate, but mediated and restored after long and deep estrangement. So we contemplate Lincoln's life rounding itself out to its psychical completeness and fulfilment. 574 ABRAHAM LINCOLN— PART THIRD. It should also be noted that from this point of view Lincoln's life is an important illustration of Universal Biography. In its way we may deem it a typical career for the human being who thinks and does great things, who is able to clothe his thought and action in the mighty events of his time. Lincoln's Biography reveals the inner psychical movement of all Biography; his life manifests the essential process of every completed life. This is the process which the biographer must bring out in his writ, and thus at least help create the beginning of a cosmos in our present biographical chaos. A science of Biography must be possible as well as a science of History. In- deed, Histoiy and Biography, though different and even opposite, are symmetrical counterparts, and at last belong together. History puts stress upon the Nation and its evolution in events; Biography puts stress upon the Man, and, as political, shows him mediating the World-Spirit with the Nation of his time. So we conclude our little book, which, as we conceive it, is not so much a literal Biography as an exemplar and an interpretation in LTniversal Biography. WORKS BY DENTON J. SNIDER PUBLISHED BY SIGMA PUBLISHING COMPANY, 210 Pine Street, St. Louis, Mo. I. Commentary on the Literary Bibles, in 9 vols. 1. Shakespeare's Dramas, 3 vols. Tragedies (new edition) . . $1.50 Comedies (new edition) . . 1.50 Histories (new edition) . . 1.50 2. Goethe's Faust. First Part (new edition) . . 1.50 Second Part (new edition) . 1.50 3. Homer's Iliad (new edition) . 1.50 " Odyssey . . . 1.50 4. Dante's Inferno . . . .1.50 " Purgatory and Paradise . 1.50 II. Psychology. 1. Psychology and the Psychosis . 1.50 2. The Will and Its World . .1.50 3. Feeling 1.50 4. Social Institutions . . . 1.50 5. The State . . . .^ .1.50 6. Ancient European Philosophy . 1.50 7. Motlern European Pliilosophy . 1.50 S. Architecture .... 1.50 III. Kindergarden. 1. Commentary on Froebel's Mother Play-Songs .... 2. 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