■^■^
.O'.
r y,:
'..^\».
j/;^.^
'j^)'
\^
'.t:^-
^^::^!Pwj'
■'Z ,1
'^^.
. ;^1
>1A
/y-^/
^.^,
'^'*j.yv
> ')i
i
LINCOLN ROOM
S^4
*^^v
A V ^~
^^
UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
LIBRARY
MEMORIAL
the class of 1901
founded by
• HARLAN HOYT HORNER
and
HENRIETTA CALHOUN HORNER
. '^i:^
^TJ
k;:^^j.;i^v c;afci^j&? J
r-*^
i:M\t\r\^<
: V^N^^"
"\
"^il:
; ^
.V--"
"^r
^^i^>^>^
'•^
' ■ V'~ '
.^^^T^
^ .rr r V^
J c '.
fsCr-A-
AN ADDRESS
I'KI.n KKKI' i;i'|()iti: IIIK
SPWNllHELD WASIIINIITONIAN
o
m
^
CR
J
Jj uu
I
u
^
AT THE SECOND PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH
-(»X IIIK -
22ID X).A.-Y- o:f :F:BBI^XJ^I^Y, 1842.
— nv
ABRAHAM LINCOLN, Esq.,
I •.n,\ I ,.■ . 1....I i.v ti . Direc'tiiiii nf ilic SiKicii
Si'RtNf:nrm\ Ti.mnoih;
Re-PrintPd for. and I'lihliHhpd by, the Spi inudrld K^foi in Clnh.
Anniversary of the Springfield Washingtonian
Temperance Society.
Sangamo Journal, Feb. 25, 1842.— lEditoiiai.)
This anniversary, the first of the kind celebrated in this county,
passed off well. A procession was formed at 11 o'clock, at the
Methodist Church, under direction of Col. B. S. Clement as Chief
Marshal, and, escorted by the beautiful company of Sangamo
Guards, under command of Capt. E. D. Baker, marched through
some of the principal streets of the city, and reached the Second
Presbyterian Church at 12 o'clock. The address, delivered by Mr.
Lincoln, in our opinion, was excellent. The Society directed it to
be printed. The singing delighted the immense crowd. Several
pieces were a second time called for and repeated. Indeed, the
whole was a most happy affair. The weather was delightful.
ADDRESS,
Although the Temperance Cause has been in progress for near t\Yenty
years, it is apparent to all, that it is just now being crowned with a degree
of success, hitherto unparalleled.
The list of its friends is daily swelled by the additions of fifties, of hun-
dreds, and of thousands. The cause itself seems suddenly transformed
from a cold abstract theory, to a living, breathing, active and powerful
chieftain, going forth "conquering and to conquer." The citadels of his
great adversary are daily being stormed and dismantled; his temples and his
altars, where the rites of his idolatrous worship have long been performed,
and where human sacrifices have long been wont to be made, are daily dese-
crated and deserted. The trump of the conquerer's fame is sounding from
hiirto hill, from sea to sea, and from land to land, and calling millions to
his standard at a blast.
For this new and splendid success, we heartily rejoice. That, that success
is so much greater now, than heretofore, is doubtless owing to rational
causes; and if we would have it continue, we shall do well to inquire what
those causes are.
The warfare heretofore waged against the demon intemperance, has,
somehow or other, been erroneous. Either the champions engaged, or the
tactics they adopted, have not been the most proper. These champions for
the most part, have been preachers, lawyers and hired agents, between these
and the mass of mankind, there is a want of approacTiaMUty , if the term be
admissable, partially at least, fatal to their success. They are supposed to
have no sympathy of feeling or interest, with those very persons whom it is
their object to convince and persuade.
And again, it is so easy and so common to ascribe motives to men of these
classes, other than those they profess to act upon. The preacher it is said,
advocates temperance because he is a fanatic, and desires a union of the
church and State; the 1-awyer from his pride, and vanity of hearing himself
speak; and the hired agent for his salary.
But when one, who has long been known as a victim of intemperance,
bursts the fetters that have bound him, and appears before his neighbors
"clothed and in his right mind," a redeemed specimen of long lost human-
ity, and stands up with tears of joy trembling in eyes, to tell of the miseries
once endured, now to be endured no more forever; of his once naked and
starving children, now clad and fed comfortably; of a wife, long weighed
down with woe, weeping and a broken heart, now restored to health, happi-
ness and a renewed atlection; and how easily it is all done, once it is re-
solved to be done; how sinii)k' his language, there is a logic and an eloquence
in it, that few, with human feelings can resist. They cannot say that he de-
sires a union of church and State, for he is not a church member; they con-
not say he is vain of hearing himself sjieak, for his whole demeanor shows
he would glad!}' avoid speaking at all; they cannot say he speaks for pay for
he receives none, aud asks for none. Nor can his sincerity in any way be
doubted; or his sympathy for thost he would i)ersuade to imitate his exam-
ple, be denied.
In my judgment, it is to the battles of this new class of champions that
our late success is greatly, perhaps chiefly, owing. But, had the old-school
champions tkemselves, been of the most wise selecting, "was their system of
tactics the most judicious? It seems to me it was not. Too much denun-
ciation against dram-sellers and dram-drinkers was indulged in. This I think
was both impolitic and unjust. It was impolitic, because it is not much in
the nature of man to be driven to anything; still less to be driven about
that, which is exclusively his own business; and least of all, where such
driving is to be submitted to, at the expense of pecuniary interest, or burn-
ing appetite. When the dram-seller and drinker, vvere incessantly told, not
in the accents of entreaty and persuasion, diflidently addressed by erring
man to an erring brother; but in the thundering tones of anathema and de-
nunciation, with which the lordly judge often groups together all the crimes
of the felon's life, and thrusts tbem in his face just e're he passes sentence of
death upon him, that they were the authors of all the vice and misery and
crime in the land; that they were the manufacturers and material of all the
thieves and robbers and murderers that infest the earth; that their houses
were the workships of the devil; and that their persons should be shunned
by all the good and vittuous, as moral pestilences. I say, when they were
told all this, and in this way, it is not wonderful that they were slow, very
slow, to acknowledge the truth of such denunciations, and to join the ranks
of their denouncers, in a hue and cry against themselves.
To have expected them to do otherwise than ihey did — to have expected
them not to meet denunciation with denunciation, crimination with crimina-
tion, and anathema with anathema — was to expect a reversal of human na-
ture, which is God's decree and can never be reversed.
When the conduct of men is designed to be influenced, persuasion, kind
unassuming persuasion, should ever be adopted. It is an old and a true
maxim, "that a drop of honey catches more flies than a gallon of gall." So
with men. If you would win a man to your cause, first convince him that you
are his sincere friend. Therein is a drop of honey that catches his heart,
which, say what he will, is the great high road to his reason, and which, when
once gained, you will find but little trouble in convincing his judgment of the
justice of your cause, if indeed that cause really be a just one. On the con-
trary, assume to dictate to his judgment, or to command his action, or to
maik him as one to be shunned and despised, and he will retreat witnin him-
self, close all the avenues to his head and his heart; and though your cause
be naked truth itself, ^j-ausformed to the heaviest lance, harder than steel,
aud sharper than steel can be made, aud though you throw it with more than
3
herculean force and precision, you shull be no more able to pierce him, than
to penetrate the hard shell of a tortoise with a rye-straw. Such is man, and
so must he be understood by those who would lead him, even to his own best
interests.
On this point, the ^V'^ashiniI;tonians greatly ext;el the temperance advocates
of former times. Those whom they desire to convince and persuade are
their old friends and companions. They know they are not demons, nor
even the worst of men; they know that generally they are kind, generous
and charitable, even beyond the example of their more staid and sober
neighbors. They are practical i)hilanthropists; and they glow with a gener-
ous and brotherly zeal, that mere theorizers are incai)ableof feeling. Benev-
olence and charity possess their hearts entirely; and out of the abundance
of their hearts, their tongues give utterance, "Love through all their actions
run, and all their words are mild;" in this spirit they speak and act, and in
the sama, they are heard and regarded. And when such is thetemper of the
advocate, and such of the audience, no good cause can be unsuccessful. But
I have said that denunciations against dram-sellers and dram-drinkers, are
unjust, as well as impolitic. Let us see.
1 have not enquired at what period of time, the use of intoxicating liquors
commenced; nor is it important to know. It is sufficient that to all ol us
who now inhabit the world, the practice of drinking them, is just as old as
the world itself — that is, we have seen the one, just as long as we have seen
the other. Wheaall such of us at have now reached the years of maturity,
first opened our eyes upon the stage of existence, we found intoxicating
liquor; recognized by everybody, used by everybody, repudiated by nobody.
It commonly entered into the first draught of the infant, and the last draught
of the dying man. From the sideboard of the parson, down to the ragged
pocket of the houseless loafer, it was constantly found. Physicians pre-
scribed it, in this, that and the other disease; Government i)rovided it for
soldioi-s and sailors; and to have a rolling or raising, a husking or "hoc-
down" anywhere about, without it, was positidely wis uffer able. 80 too, it was
everywhere a respectable article of manufacture and of merchandise. The
making of it was regarded as an honorable livelihood, and he could make
most, was the most enterprising and respectable. Large and small miinufac-
tories of it were everywhere erected, in which all the earthly goods of their
owners were invested. Wagons drew it from town to [town; boats bore it
from clime to clime, and the winds wafted it from nation to nation; and
merchants bought and sold it, by wholesale and retail, with precisely the
same feelings on the part of the seller, buyer and by-stander, as are felt at
the selling and buying of plows, beef, bacon, or any other of the real neces-
saries of life. Universal public opinion not only tolerated, but recognized
and adopted its use.
It is true, that even then, it wus known and ncknowledged, that many
were greatly injured by it; but none seemed to think the injury arose from
the use of a bad thing, but from the abuse of a very good thing. The vic-
tims of it were to be i^itied, and compassionated, just as are the heirs of con-
sumption, and other liereditary diseases. Their failing was treated as a mis-
fortune, and not as a crime, or rvcn as a disgrace.
If then, what I have been saying is true, is it wonderful, that some should
think and act now, as all thought and acted twenty years ago, and is it just
to assail, condemn, or despise 1 hem for doing so? The universal sense of
mankind, on any subject, is an argument, or at least an influence not easily
overcome. The success of the argument in favor of the existence of an
over-ruling Providence, aiainly depends upon that sense; and men ought
not, in justice, to be denounced for yielding to it in any case, or giving it
up slowly, especially when they are backed by interest, fixed habits, oV burn-
ing appetites.
Another error, as it seems to me, into which the old reformers fell, was
the position that all habitual drunkards were utterly incorrigible, and there-
fore, must be turned adrift, and damned without remedy, in order that the
grace of temperance might abound, to the temperate then, and to all man-
kind some hundreds ef years thereafter. There is in this, something so re-
pugnant to humanity, so uncharitable, so cold blooded and feelingless, that
it never did, nor never can enlist the enthusiasm of a popular cause. We
could not love the man who taught it — we could not hear him with patience.
The heart could not throw open its portals to it, the generous man could not
adopt it, it could not mix with his blood. It looked so fiendishly selfish, so
like tlirowing fathers and brothers overboard, to lighten the boat for our se
curity — that the noble-minded shrank from the manifest meanness of the
thing. And besides this, the benefits of a reformation to be eflected by such
a system, were too remote in point of time, to warmly engage many in its
behalf. Few can be induced to labor exclusively for posterity; and none
will do it enthusiastically. Posterity has done nothing for us; and theorize
on it as we may, practically we shall do very little for it, ^unless we are made
to think, we are, at the same time, doing something for ourselves.
What an ignorance of human nature does it exhibit, to ask or expect a
whole community to rise up and labor for the temporal happiness of others,
after themselves shall be consigned to the dust, a majority of which com-
munity take no pains whatever to secure their own eternal welfare at no
greater distant dayV Great distance in either lime of space has wonderful
power to lull and render quiescent the human mind. Pleasures to be enjoy-
ed, or pains to be endured, after we shall be dead and gone, are but little
regarded, even in our own cases, and much less in the cases of others.
IStill in addition to this, there is something so ludicrous, in promises of
good, or threats of evil, a great way off, as to render the whole subject with
which they are connected, easily turned into ridicule. "Better lay down
that spade you're stealing, Paddy — if you don't, you'll pay for it at the daj^
of judgment." "Be the powers, if ye'll credit me so long I'll take another
jist."
By the Washingtonians this system of consigning the habitual drunkard
to hopeless ruin, is repudiated. They adopt a more enlarged philanthropy,
they go for present as well as future good. They labor for all now living,
as well as hereafter to live. They teach hope to all — despair to none. As
applying to their cause, they deny the doctrine of unpardonable sin, as in
Christianity it is taught, so in this they teach—
"While the lamp holds out to burn,
The vilest sinner may return."
And, what is a matter of the most profound congratulation, they, by exper-
iment upon experiment, and example upon example, prove the maxim to be
no less true in the one ca^e than in the other. On every hand we behold
those, who but yesterday, were the chief of sinners, now the chief apostles
of the cause. Drunken devils are cast out by ones, by sevens, by legions;
and their unfortunate victims, like the poor possessed, who was redeemed
from his long and lonely wanderings in the tombs, are publishing to the ends
of the earth how great things have been done for them.
To these new champions, and this new system of tactics, our late success
is mainly owing; and to them we must mainly look for the final consumma-
tion. The ball is now rolling gloriously on, and none are so able as they
to increase its speed, and its bulk — to add to its momentum, and its magni-
tude — even though unlearned in letters, for this task none are so well educa-
tod. To fit them for this work they have been taught in the true school.
They have been in that gulf, from which they would teach others the means
of escapes. They have passed that prison wall, which others have long de-
clared impassable; and who that has not, shall dare to weigh opinions with
them as to the mode of passing?
But if it be true, as 1 have insisted, tiiat those who hiive sulVered bj- intoni-
perance personally, and have reformed, are the most powerful and elllcieut
insliuments to push the reformation to ultimate suecess, it does not follow,
that those who have not sullered, hfive no part left them to perform, ^^'h^tlu'r
or not the world would be vustly benefitted by a total and final banishment
from it, of all intoxicating drinks, seems to me not now an open question.
Three-fourths of mankind confess the attirmative with their tongues, and, I
believe, all the rest acknowledge it in their hearts.
Ought any, then, to refuse their aid in doing what good the good of the
whole demands? Shall he, who cannot do much, be, for that reason excused
if he do nothing? "But," says one, "what good can 1 do by signing the
pledge? I never drink, even without signing." This ([ucstion has already
Oeen asked and answered more than a million of times. Let it be answered
once more. For the man to suildenly, or in any other way, to lircak ofT from
the use of drams, who has indulged in them for a long course of years, and
until his appetiie for them has grown ten t)r a hundred fold stronger, and
more craving, than any natural appetite can be, requires a most i)owerful
moral eilort. In such an umiertaking lie needs every moral support ami in-
liuence, that can possil)ly be brought to his aid, and thrown around him
And not only so, but every moral juop should be taken from whatever ar-
gument might rise in his mind to lure him to his backsliding. When he casts
hi.- ej-es around him, he should be able to see, all that he respects, all tliat
he admires, all that he loves, kindly and anxiously pointing him onward,
and none beckoning him back, to his former miserable "wallowing in the
mire."
But it is said by some that men will think and act for themselves; that
none will disuse spirits or anything else because his neighbors do; and
that mural inlluence is not that powerful engine contended for. Let us ex-
amine this. Let me ask the man who could maintain this position most
stiffly, what compensation he will accept to go to church some Sunday and
sit during the sermon with his wife's bonnet upon his head? Not a trifle,
I'll venture. And why not? There would be nothing irreligiou.'- in it;
noticing immoral, nothing uncomfortable — then why not? Is it not because
there would be something egregiously unfashionable in it ? Then it is the
intluence of fashion; and what is the inlluence of fashion, but the intiueuce
that other jieople's actions have on our own actions — the strong inclination
each of us feels to do as we see all our neighbors do? Nor is the intluence
of fashion continedto any particular thing or class of things. It is just as
strong on one subject as another. I^et us make it as unfashionable to with-
hold our names from the temperance pledge, as for husbands to A\ear their
wives' bonnets to church, and instances will be just as rare in the one case
as the other.
"But" say some "we are no drunkards and we sliall not acknowledge our-
selves such, by joining a reformed drunkard's society, whatever our
influence might be." Surely no christian will adhere to this objection.
if they believe as they profess, that Omnii)otence condescended to take
on himself the form of sinful man, and, as such, to die an ignominious
death for their sakes ; surely they will not refuse submission to the inlin-
itely lesser condescension, for the temporal, and jjcrhaps eternal salvation,
of a large, erring, and unfortunate class of their fellow creatures. Nor is
the condescension veiy great. In my judgment such of us as have never
fallen victims, have been spared more from the absence of appetite, than
from any mental or moral superiority over those wlio have. Indeed, I be-
lieve, if we take habitual drunkards as a class, their heads and their hearts
will bear an a(,lvantageous comjiarison with those of any other class. ' There
seems ever to have been a pronenoss in the brilliant, and warm-blooded, to
fall into this vice — the demon of intemjjerance ever seems to have delighted
in sucking the blood of genius and of genero>'ity. What one of us but can call
to mind some relative, more promising in youth than all his fellows, who
has fallen a sacrifice to his rai)acil yV He ever st^ems to have gone fortli like
the Egyptian angel of death, commissioned to slay, if not the first, the
fairest born of every family. Shall he now be arrested in his desolating
career? In that arrest, all can give aid that will ; and who sliall be excused
that can, and will not? Far around as human brealli has ever blown, he
keeps our fathers, our brothers, our sons, and our fiiends prostrate in the
cliains of moral death. To all the living everywhere, we cry, "Come sound
the moral trump, that these may rise and stand up an exceeding great
army." — "Come from the four winds, O breath ! and breathe upon these slain
that Ihfy may live." If the relative gruDdeur of revolutions shall be
estimated by the great amount of human misery they alleviate, and the
small amount they inflict, then, indeed, will this be the grandest the world
shall ever have seen.
Of our political revolution of 76 we are all justly proud. It has given us
a degree of political freedom fur exc< ediiig that of any other nations of the
earth. In it the world has found a solution of the long mooted problem, as
to the capability of man to govern himself. In it was the germ which has
vegitated, and still is to grow and exjiand into the universal liberty of
mankind.
But, with all these glorious results, past, present, and to come, it had its
evils too. It breathed forth famine, swam in blood, and rode in fire ;
and long, long Mfler, the orphans' cry :ind tbe widows' wail, continued to
break the sad silence that ensued. These Mere the price, the inevitable
price, paid for the blessings it bought.
Turn now, to the temperance revolution. In it we shall find a stronger
bondage broken, a viler slavery manumitted, a greater tyrant deposed — n
it, more of want supplied, ntore diseas*' healed, more sorrow assuaged. By
it, no orphans starving, no widows weeping. By it, none wounded in feel-
ing, none injured in interest ; even the dram-maker and dram-seller will
have glided into other occupations so g-adually, as never to have felt the
change, and will stand ready to join all others in the universal song of
gladne«=s. And what a noble ally this, to the cause of political freedom,
with such an aid, its march cannot fail to be on and ( n, till every son of
earth shall drink in rich fruition the sorrow-quenching draughts of perfect
liberty. Happy day, when all appetites controlled, all poisons subdued, all
matter subjected; mind all conquering mind shall live and move, the mon-
arch of the world. Glorious consunnmit ion ! Hail fall of fury! Reign
.reason, all hail !
And when! the victory shall be complete — when there shall be neither a
slave nor a drunkard on the earth — how proud the title of that Land, which
may trulv claim to be the birthplace and the cradle of noth those revolu-
tions, that shall h:;ve ended in that victory. How nob!}' distinguished that
people, who shall have planted, and nurtured to maturity, both the political
and moral freedom of their species.
This is the one hundred and tenth anniversary of the birthday of Wash-
ington — we are met to celebrate this day. Washington is the mightiest
name of earth — long since miuhtiest in tlip cause of civil liberty, still
mightiest in moral reformation. On that name a eulogy is expected. It
cannot be. To add brightness to the sun, or glory to the name of Wash-
ington is alike impossible. Let none at;empt it. In solemn awe pronounce
the name, and in its naked deathless splendor leave it shining on.
J
This address was first printed by order of the Wash-
ingtonian Society, m the " Saiigamo Journal," March
26, 1842, and is re-printed through the kindness of the
Springfield Journal Company, for the benefit of the
Springfield Keform Club, and is on sale by tliem at 10c.
a copy, $1.00 per dozen, or $5.(X) per hundred, prepaid,
by mail or express, in quantities to suit. Address
^HN F ~ UNN ^^^^ ^' ^^'^^' Sec'y.
5
OBSEQUIES
OF
ABEAHAM LINCOLN,
IN
Newark, N. J., April 19, 1865.
ORATION
BY
FREDERICK T. FRELINGHUYSEN, ESQ.
NEWARK, N. J.:
PRINTED AT THE DAILY ADVERTISER OFFICE.
18C5.
6
Newakk, N. J,, April 22d, 1865.
IIoN. F. T. Fkelinguuysen—
Deau Sir :
In pursuance of a resolution adopted by the
citizens of Newark, assembled on the 19th instant to commemorate the obsequies of the
late President of the United States, we respectfully ask that you will furnish for publica-
tion a copy of the eloquent and appropriate address delivered by you on that occasion.
We trust that you will kindly comply with this request, in order that the procccdiDgs of
an occasion so marked and solemn may be put in form for preservation.
In behalf of th« Committee of Arrangements, wc arc
Very truly yours,
MARCUS L. WARD, Chairman.
A. Q. KEASBEY, Secretanj.
Newark, April 24th, 1S65.
Gentlemen :
In compliance with the request of our fellow-citizens, so kindly commuui-
cated by yon, I transmit for publication my hastily prepared address on the occasion of the
funeral obsequies Of our lamented President.
Yours truly,
FRED'K T. FRELINCnUYSEN.
To Messrs. :Marcu8 L. Ward, Chairman, and A. Q. Keasbey, Sec'y.
(
rRELIMIMRY AIUIANG EMliNTS.
-♦•♦-
On Monday, K\)v\\ 17, a public meeting was held at Library Hall, to
make arrangcnicnts for obsequies in commemoration of Abkaiiam
Lincoln, late President of the United States, whose death by the hand
of an assassin took 2)lace on Saturday, April 15. William A. Wiiite-
iiEAi), Esq., was appointed Chairman of the meeting, and John Y.
Foster, Esq., Secretary.
The following gentlemen were appointed a committee with full power
to make arrangements for suitable ceremonies :
Marcus L. "Ward, Albert Beach,
Silas Merchant, , James L. Hays,
Daniel Haines, Daniel Lauck,
Orson Wilson, A. Q. Keasbey,
B. Prieth, Francis Mackin,
George A. Halsey, William A. Whitehead,
Moses Big:plow, William E. Sturges,
John H. Kase, Francis Brill,
Theodore Runyoi^, John Y. Foster,
Thomas T. Kinney, John C. Littell,
Dr. F. L[iL, Thomas R. Williams,
CHRiSTornER Wiedenmeyer, James M. Smith,
Dr. J. A. Cross, David Anderson,
Wm. B. Guild, Jr., James Ro^ve.
The following gentlemen were appointed a committee to prepare
resolutions to be read at the celeljration :
Rev. E. M. Levy, * Dr. S. H. Pennington,
C. L. C. Gifford, a. Q. Keasbey,
Rev. George H. Doane.
The Committee of Arrangements announced on the following day
that they had determined upon a funeral procession, and an oration, to
take place on Wednesday, April 10, shnultancously with the funeral
services at Washington, and requested the city authorities, the various
public bodies and associations, and the citizens generally, to j^articijiatc,
6
Federal salute to be fired at sunrise, and all business to be suspended
throughout the city.
On "Wednesday, Ai)ril 19, the day devoted to the celebration of the
obsequies in pursuance of the foregoing arrangements, the whole city
was literally in mourning. Business was every^'here suspended, and a
deep solemnity and stillness rested upon the crowded streets. The
tokens of sorrow were univei*sally displayed upon public and private
buildings.
Upon the tolling of the bells, at noon, the i)eople assembled in their
various churches, in accordance with the Governor's proclamation, where
religious services suitable to the solemn occasion were held and appro-
priate addresses made.
At 2 P. M., the procession moved from the corner of Broad and Market
streets, through Market to Washington, down "Wasliiugton to Broad, up
Broad to Washington Place, through Wasliington Place to Washington
street, uj) Washington street to Broad, down Broad to Centre street, and
thence to ]SIilitarj' Park.
The following was the order of the procession :
Detachment of Police.
Major William W. Morris, Grand Marshal and Aids.
Military Escort.
First National Guard and Rifle Corps.
Officers of the Army and Na\y.
Invalid Soldiers.
Officers and Soldiers of the Army out of service.
Band.
Pall Bearers. • PaU Bearers.
Marcus L. Ward, H Samuel P. Smith,
WiLLiAJi A. Whitehead, « John A. Boppe,
James M. Qtxikbt, fj Dr. FRrooLiN III,
William A. Myer, ^ CoRXELrcs Walsh,
Thomas B. Peddie, „ Moses T. Baker,
Beach Vastjerpool, rj Frederick Wuesthoff.
Joseph Ward, m
Veteran Reserve Corps as Guard of Honor.
Orator.
Clergy.
Government and State Officers.
Mayor and Common Council.
Police.
Band. ^
Fire Department.
Masonic Order, under William D. Kinney, Marshal.
Odd Fellows, under Amos H. Searfoss, Marshal.
William S. Whitehead, Grand Master State of New Jersey.
Newark Mutual Aid Association.
Protestant Association.
German Organizations— Philip Somer, Marshal.
Social Turners— William Knecht.
Aurora, Eintracht, Liederkranz, Arion, Concordia and Teutonia Singing So-
cieties— J. P. Huber.
Fickler Lodge, Benevolent Society— G. Benkert.
Humbolt " " " —J. Gemeinder.
8
Maehlenberg and Robert Blum Lodges, Benevolent Societies— C. Miller.
Washington, Lafayette and Jefferson " " " — Chas. Fargel.
No Surrender Lodge, Benevolent Society — Chas. Seifert.
Mandas Stamm, Red Men Society— John Lingsman.
Mamakaus Stamm, Red Men Society— F. Hause.
Miamies, Ratuca and Union Stamms, Red Men Societies — G. Stetenfeld.
Robert Blum Association and Benevolent Society No. 1— J. Beisinger.
Mendelssohn and Teutonia Benevolent Societies — I. Lehman.
Shoemakers' and Bakers' Associations, Friendship Club and Newark Benevolent
Association— Schaefer.
Clinton Township L. & J. Club.
Newark Young Men's Literary Society.
Trade Associations.
Hibernian Provident Benevolent Society.
Shamrock Benevolent Society.
Erina Benevolent Society.
Laborers' Benevolent Society.
Emerald Benevolent Society.
St. James' Benevolent Society,
St. Joseph's Benevolent Society.
St. Peter's Benevolent Society.
St. Patrick's Temperance Society.
Young Men's Roman Catholic Association.
Second Division of St. Patrick's Temperance Society.
Citizens generally.
The Marshals.
Bells were tolled and minute i^uns fired durinf]^ the march of the
procession, which occupied an hour in passing a given point, and
arrived at the Park at 4jr P. M. At that place an immense assemblage
had gathered. ]SIarcus L. Ward, Esq., took the chair, and the exercises
were opened with a dirge by Dodworth's Band, followed by a hymn
from the German Singing Society, which was sung vrith much feeling
and expression. The Rev. Mr. Levy, Chairman of the Committee on
Resolutions, then ofiered the following, which were adopted :
The citizens of Newark, assembled en masse beneath the shadow of a great sorrow,
would express in befitting words their sentiments and feelings in view of the recent
striking down of the honored head of the Nation by the hands of murderous violence,
Jiesolved, That we feel the utter inadequacy of language to measure our astonishment
and horror at the daring enormity of the crime committed.
Resolved, That in the presence of this awful dispensation of Providence, it becomes us,
the citizens of Newark here assembled, in common with our fellow countrymen through-
out the Union, to bow with humble submission under the rod that has smitten us, and
with penitence and confession of our national and personal sins to implore God's mercy
upon us and our afflicted people.
Resolved, That the virtues of Abraham Lrs'coLN speak tmmpet-tongned against the
execrable deed that has cut short his useful life and deprived the Republic of his invalu.
able services — that now more than ever the insulted majesty of the Nation stands in urgent
need of vindication ; and that while we would deprecate all vindictive excess, we are
nevertheless of the opinion that the laws of God and the instincts of outraged humanity
justify and demand that at least the chief plotters and abettors of a rebellion which has
deluged the land with blood, should not be allowed to go unpunished.
Resolved, That we recognize in the brutal murder of the President, and the attempted
assaseination of the Secretary of State, lying as he was on a sick bed and rendered de-
fenceless by wounds, the same fiendish spirit engendered by slavery, which, years ago,
shocked the nation with its barbarous violence, and at last has filled the land with lamen-
tation and bitter sorrow, making it the imperative duty of the Government never to cea^d
the struggle in which we are engaged, tintil this pestilent cause of all our troubles is for-
ever eradicated from our soil.
8
Besolved, That, while we will retain in cherished remembrance the virtues of that il-
lustrious man to whom, and whose compatriots, under God, we owe the foundation of the
free institutions we enjoy, our hearts will not consent to withhold an equal place in their
afl'ectionate and grateful remembrance, from the martyred patriot, whose life has just been
sacrificed for their maintenance ; assured that while time lasts and a reverence for virtue
and loyalty remains, the names of George Washington and Abraham Lincoln will
stand together in emblazoned characters on history's brightest page, the one as the Father,
the other as the Saviour of his country.
Besolved, That we extend to the afflicted family of our late President our sincere sympa^
thy, assuring them that their affliction and sorrow arc not theirs alone, but are shared by
the entire Nation, and that we commend them to the protection and loving regard of the
God of all grace and comfort.
Resolved, That cur sympathies are due and are hereby tendered to the honored Secretary
of State, himself the purposed victim of foul conspiracy ; and that we regard it a cause
for special and devout thanksgiving that the transcendent ability, which has been so skill-
fully employed in averting threatened foreign complications with our domestic troubles,
is still saved to our afflicted country in this hour of her severest trial.
Resolved, That we tender to the distinguished citizen called of God in a manner so
signal and solemn, to assume the duties of the Chief Executive office, the expression of
our confidence in his patriotism and earnest purpose to administer, in dependence on
Divine assistance, the aflTairs of this great people, with the assurance of our earnest sup-
port in his efforts to uphold the Government and maintain its authority over our entire
National territory.
Resolved, That over the prostrate body of our murdered President it is eminently fit and
proper that every good citizen, every patriot, every man who Anshes to be thought an up-
holder of order, and a free Government, should now, ignoring party, swear fresh allegi-
ance to the National cause, and new devotion to the work of saving, under God, this great
Republic from dismemberment and overthrow.
Another dirge by the band was followed by the Oration of Hon.
Frederick T. Frelinghuysen.
The "Star-Spangled Banner" and " Rally Round the Flag" were
then given by the band, after which, on motion, a resolution was
adopted returning thanks to Mr. Frelinghuysen for his able oration,
and requesting a copy of the same for publication. In conclusion,
the vast multitude was led by Alderman James L. Hays in singing the
grand old Doxology — " Praise God from whom all blessings flow."
9
ORATION.
-♦•♦-
Fellow-Citizens :
The songs of Victory ; tlie patriot's con-
gratulations at the speedy advent of Peace ; the bells pealing
their anthems of praise to God, are suddenly hushed. The
proud huzzah is turned to lamentation, and the land is
shrouded with the signals of distress. A grief such as can
only come to the great heart of a Nation has fallen upon us.
The kind, the unpretending, the patient, the laborious, the
brave, the wise, the great and good Abraham Lincoln is
dead ! The Nation's heart should " melt and be poured out
like water."
We bow, Oh ! God, beneath thy rod.
After being called to the Chief-Magistracy of this Nation by
the overwhelming voice of the people ; after having borne,
for four years, a weight of toil and care and responsibility,
such as, perhaps, no other man has borne ; after having
brought the nation through a complication of difficulties which
the best men among us at times have believed would engulph
us in ruin ; when he was just introducing the Nation to the
halcyon days of peace; when, by acts of sublime magna-
nimity, appealing to the better instincts of man's nature, he
wai5 endeavoring to join the hands of this estranged people ;
when, to all human appearances, his intimate and severely ac-
quired knowledge of the conflicting interests, motives and
passions of the crisis, was essential to the welfare of the Re-
public; when the thanks of a rescued people were just being
poured upon him ; when his wisdom and his patriotism had
taken from party spirit its bitterness, and all were uniting in
2
10
testimony to his greatness and his goodness — it is, at this point
of time, at this juncture of events, in the inscrutable provi-
dence of God, the fearful tidings reach us that Abraham
Lincoln is dead !
That mind, in all its comprehensive originality, stored with
practical wisdom, to us invaluable, has now left the transitory
scenes of time ! That heart which was moved to active sym-
pathy for all in the wide world who were afilicted, down-
trodden or oppressed, will never beat again! That hand
which, while it swayed the sceptre of a great Nation, none of
any state, condition or color were too poor or too degraded to
grasp, is now cold and stiff and motionless ! Ah ! afflicted
country, go and mourn.
" It is manliuess to be heart-broken here,
For the grave of earth's best nobleness is watered by the tear."
Go deck with mourning wreath your Nation's ensign, for
the second Father of his Country is no more.
When hereafter selfish ambition shall distract and divide
the Cabinet counsel of the Nation, you can no longer com-
posedly say, Lincoln is there ! When hereafter an uninformed
and inflammatory press shall assail valuable civil or military
officers, you can no longer quietly lay aside the journal, with
the satisfactory consolation, Lincoln is there ! When here-
after complications and difficulties arise with foreign nations,
knowing the sagacity and peace-loving disposition of your
leader, you can no longer exultingly say, Lincoln is there !
When hereafter the true friends of the country, with earnest-
ness and talent, shall advocate two diverse and opposite plans
for the restoration of the Nation, one crying for justice and
for vengeance, and the other counselling pardon and forbear-
ance, you can no longer lay your head gently on its pillow,
under the conviction that Lincoln is there ! No, he is not
there ! He has gone ! Gone to the reward of those who, in
imitation of our great Exemplar, forget themselves for the
welfare of others.
Did I say, that the Nation mourned because Abraham
11
LusTCOLN was dead? I told but half the truth. Had he died
in the course of nature, surrounded by all the tender assidui-
ties of affection, and had he left this anxious world of trouble
for his home above, leaving us his parting counsel and benedic-
tion, we would have sorrowed for him most deeply; but the
heart of this afflicted people has vastly more than that sorrow
to bear. It is anguished and torn by the conflicting emotions
of sorrow and bereavement on the one hand, and indignation
and desire for justice on the other.
In Abraham Lincoln was not only centered the affections
of the people, but he impersonated the majestic dignity of this
great Christian Nation — to protect and vindicate which dignity
all men of all parties would be ready, if needs be, again to
drench this land in blood and tears and ready to give up life
and property ; the Chief Magistrate, who thus impersonated
the Nation's dignity, is not only dead, but is foully murdered.
Let the vile miscreant who did the deed die as he deserves.
But ah ! our President had other murderers than that aban-
doned man. He was murdered by the two nefarious Powers
which, in God's strength he had bravely fought and bravely
vanquished, and which were at that moment expiring —
Iluman Slavery and Eebellion against Freedom.
The proximate cause of this agonizing event is a small
leaden missile and a few grains of powder ; but the real, the
true, the responsible cause of this atrocity, is the two malign
agencies which in these later years have been holding their
carnival of crime and cruelty and causing the land to wreak
with blood. This diabolical consummation is the legitimate
result of the sj^irit they have been inculcating.
It matters not whether the counsel of the assassin's accom-
plice to '' wait until Kichmond could be heard from ;" whether
the fact that the day selected for the deed w\ns that on which
the Nation's banner was re-instated on Sumter ; whether the
fact that months ago public advertisement offered a reward for
a man to assassinate the President ; whether the fact that a
scheme did exist to seize and caiTy him off beyond the ene-
10
12
my's lines ; whether the fact that this plot included the whole
Cabinet — prove or do not prove that the itinerant government
of Eichmond instigated the deed. Those who would- trace
this crime to its proper source and then profit by their conclu-
sion, must accept the truth that the murderers are the two
foul powers I have named. One of w^hich, for generations,
has grown rich in luxurious indolence by the sweat of
others brows, has revelled in the degradation of those
who were without the ability to resist, has severed the ten-
derest ligatures of the human heart by tearing husband
from wife, and mother from children, and has made the lash
and often death the sanction by which to enforce its tyranny ;
it has withheld from God's immortal creatures the blessed
privilege of reading His gospel of salvation ; has reduced a
class well called "poor whites" to a condition little better
than the slave, and has robbed those who would be true to
their country of the benefits of our priceless institutions. It
is the same vile power which at one time by its insidious
blandishments has seduced Northern freemen into an abject
servility to its will, and at another time has bullied the coun-
sels of this Nation into a shape to it agreeable. It is the same
that has rendered its votaries arrogant and inhuman, the same
that struck Sumner down, and which now, in the agonies of its
dissolution, has dealt a blow upon him, who, as God's instru-
ment, I believe, has vanquished it.
The other murderer is the offspring, (as death is of sin,) of
that I have just named. It is that foul spirit which rebelled
without cause, and without the assignment of any cause, against
the fairest and best government of the world ; which has laid
in many an unknown grave, cold and stark and dead, hundreds
of thousands of the best youth of the Nation. It is that spirit
which has filled our land with widows and orphans ; that has
murdered by starvation tens of thousands of our brave
soldiers, fighting to maintain civil liberty for the world ; the
same that prompted commissioned bandit raiders to rob our
banks and murder unarmed and quiet citizens ; the same that
13 11
htos thrown from the track trains of cars, the inmates — women
and children — all unguarded and unconscious of danger ; the
same that has striven, with the incendiary's torch, to reduce to
a seething, burning mass the multitudinous throng attendant
on our places of public amusement, and to send anguish to
every hamlet in the land by the simultaneous destruction of
most of the crowded hotels in yonder metropolis. It is the
same spirit that while this horrid deed was being done, in the
person of that ruflian leaped on the sick bed of our honored
Secretary of State, and with the assassin's blade sought to
extinguish a heroism which every other expedient had failed
to silence.
These ! Slavery and Rebellion, are the murderers of our
Chief Magistrate. Let the vile instrument who, over the
shoulders of a doting wife, assassinated the benefactor of his
race, die!
But come, you noble, just and true men of all parties with
me, to the altars of your country and there record it, that these
foul murderers of our race, as well as of our President, shall
no longer have a foot-place in free America.
Those influences which transmute the sober-minded Ameri-
can citizen into frenzied fiends — burning with a murderous
fanaticism, ready, reckless of danger and death, to assassinate
whoever is pointed out for vengeance ; those influences which
render the stiletto and the pistol, rather than argument and the '
peaceful ballot, the arbiters of the destinies of the Nation, must
be torn up, root and branch, and burned in the hot fire of a
holy indignation, or we are undone forever.
For more than four years ; yes, ever since Abraham Lin-
coln had the hardihood, as a free American citizen, to accept
a nomination for the Presidency, the pampered slave aristoc-
racy of the South have followed him with the deepest malig-
nity. Fashion and beauty incensed that at the sacrifice of
oath and country he would not do obeisance to their assump-
tion, have plied their fascinating dalliance to insinuate the
venom of hatred and revenge into the heart of the Southern
14
gentry, while the more vulgar with the rapacity of their blood-
dogs have hounded him ; they have exhausted the vocabulary
of Billingsgate for opprobrious epithets wherewith to dishonor
him; they have villified him as a drunkard, fool and tyrant.
And when that miscreant leaped upon the stage and with the
theatrical malevolence of the pit, shouted " Stc semj^er tyran-
m'Sj^^ he only condensed and echoed the vile sentiment they
have fostered. I observe that when the rebel leader heard of
the assassination he shut himself up in his house at Kichmond,
refusing to hear the details of the tragedy. Ah ! yes ; did
conscience tell him that he and his co-conspirators, though not
concerned, had guili in that murder ? He is by no means the
first who has sown the wind and cowered before the whirl-
wind. The event which shocks the nation, is not isolated. It
is linked to the past, and that past has its responsibility.
But come now, you who have rebelled against the Govern-
ment ; your victim lies bleeding before you. Look at him.
Did he ever take one step further in your path than you made
necessary for the preservation of this free Government for
your children and for ours ? Did he ever utter to you one
unkind word? Has he done more than you would have done,
if you have not perjury in your soul, if you, as he, had that
constitutional oath recorded in Heaven ? Come, look at your
victim — your eyes may now glut themselves with vengeance ;
but it would be more rational, let me say, that your hearts
should be clothed with sorrow, for there! there! lies your
best friend ! His patient, forgiving nature, was the rampart
between your crime and an injured country. Think not that
this Nation dies with him. No, it lives, and it will live.
Hearts throb and stalwart men weep — but an event which would
have shaken to their centres the monarchies of the Old World,
does not produce a jar to our self-adjusting Government. And
let me tell you, if you do not yet submit to the same laws
which we rejoice to obey, one will rise up whose little finger
shall be as that man's loins.
This blow is hard to bear ! Martyr of liberty, great
1 "^
15
sacrifice to tliy Nation's existence, rest in thy Western grave !
Those of the opposing party, regretting any hasty word, not
said in malice, that might have cast an insult on thy honored
name, remembering that not one rancorous expression was
ever tempted from thy lips — and seeing in thy death the in-
fernal character of the principles against which your war of
life was waged, will come with those who were your followers,
and both will join with the down-trodden and the oppressed of
this and of every land, and at thy tomb renew our devotion
to the just and holy cause for which you lived and died.
Abraham Lincoln was born in Kentucky, in 1809. He
was the son of a poor man. He derives no distinction from
ancestry, but sheds back upon it a bright lustre. When he
was seven years old his lather moved to Indiana, where, for
twelve years the son lived, aiding in the support of the family.
When Abraham Lincoln was about twenty years old, his
father removed to Illinois, and he remained aiding the family
until they were settled in their new home. Having learned to
read and write during this period of his life, he studied most
assiduously such elementary books as came in his way. Ilis
father's family settled, and he, being destitute of pecuniary
means, hired himself out, some times as a day laborer, some
times as a hand on a IMississippi flat-boat. At this period, and
in these scenes, he learned, by impressive lessons, the value to
each of God's creatures, of his own industry, his own muscles
and capabilities, for that was all the patrimony he had. And
he learned too, in the integrity of his nature, to look upon the
self-appropriation of another's industry without compensation,
as the meanest of all thefts and robberies. He learned the
dignity of free human toil and that if, and not the ill-gotten
gains of a pampered aristocracy, constituted the true wealth of
the Nation. He learned that the very diversity of gifts that
exist among men in this world — one being rich and another
poor — created the mutual dependance of one man upon an-
other; for he saw that the man with capital was as dependant
on him for his labor, as he was upon the man of wealth for
16
his support; and he saw that this universal dependance of
each member of society on the other members of society, con-
stituted the equality of all men in society — and that as all men,
hy their dependance^ were equal, they all had equal rights, and
thus comprehended that great fundamental doctrine of our
Government, " That all men are created equal." lie learned
that it was not "a glittering generality," but a great truth,
affecting all the relations of men as citizens. These lessons
thus learned, helped to prepare him for his great mission.
After having gathered a little means, for a short time he
followed the employment of a country merchant, and then the
business of a surveyor. lie then studied law, and soon took
a prominent position at the bar — being employed in many
important cases at the West. He was then sent to Congress,
where he maintained a highly respectable and useful position.
On his return from Congress, the question of slavery was
agitating the country. Senator Stephen A. Douglas was a
man of great talent and the foremost debater in the U. S.
Senate ; and permit me to say, while he lived, he was as de-
termined and patriotic an opposer of the rebellion as any man
that has survived him. Douglas and Lincoln met at the
hustings to discuss the great question of slavery — vast crowds
followed them, the electric wire carried their speeches as de-
livered all over the land. Those debates were of marked
ability, and I believe that neither of those distinguished men
ever claimed a victory, the one over the other. And the
people were more enlightened and educated on the subject
from these debates than from any other source.
The ability displayed and the principles enunciated by Mr.
Lincoln in these debates, induced the Eepublican party, in
1860, to make him their candidate for the Presidency. That
election was one of fearful interest and excitement. The slave
section of the country had hitherto, by threats and menaces,
carried almost every position they had tali:en, and they now
pointed to the magazine and to the torchj saying that if Abra-
ham Lincoln was elected President, the Union, the Nation,
17 13
should cease to exist. Many looked upon this as an idle threat ;
others determined, that be the consequences what they might,
they would lawfully and freely exercise the elective franchise.
Tie was elected. They lighted the torch, and were preparing
to apply it. Congress implored them to desist ; and, moved
by love of country, to induce them to stay their hand, both
the Ilouse of Kepresentatives and Senate, by a two-thirds vote,
Republicans and Democrats voting together, on the 28th of
February, 1861, passed a joint resolution, proposing the fol-
io win iz amendment to the Constitution of the United States :
" No amendment shall be made to the Constitution which
" will authorize or give to Congress the power to abolish or
'• interfere, within any State, with the domestic institutions
*' thereof, including that of persons held to labor or service by
" the laws of said State."
President Lincoln, in his inaugural address, plainly ex-
pressed his approval of this amendment, and it was a measure
of conciliation in which I- then deeply sympathized. That
was the hour of power for the Southern malcontents. Had
they then desisted, this fair land of freedom would have be-
come a pandemonium where slavery and all the crimes of
which it is the prolific mother, would have had uncontrolled
dominion and sway. But God in his infinite wisdom and
mercy had better things in store for us ; and severe as has
been the ordeal, this Nation, pruned from its iniquity, is yet
to be the grandest and freest Christian Nation of the world.
Having escaped a plot for his assassination, by changing his
arrangements for travel, Mr. Lincoln arrived at Washington >
and was inaugurated on the -ith of March, 1861. And he
whom the vile fugitive has the hardihood to call a tyrant,
thus at his inauguration addressed the South : ''In your hands,
" my dissatisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in mine^ is the
" momentous issue of civil war. The Government wiW not
" assail you. You can have no conflict without being yourselves
" the aggressors. You have no oath registered in Heaven to
" destroy the Government, while I shall have the most solemn
" one to * preserve, protect and defend it.'
3
18
" I am loth to close. We are not enemies, but friends ; we
" must not be enemies. Tliougli passion may liave strained, it
" must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords
" of memory, stretching from every battle-field and patriot
"grave to every living heart and hearthstone, all over this
" broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union when
" again touched, as surely they will be by the better angels of
" our nature."
These words had hardly reached the South when, on the
i4th of April, Sumter was fired on. Abraham Lincoln
sprang to his feet and called for men, and most nobly did all
parties of the North respond. And from that time to the
hour of his death — in the Cabinet of the Nation, at the front,
and in the trenches around the Capitol — he devoted himself to
the great interests of his country. Others have wavered —
others have desponded, but he never. And now to-day, in
the august presence upon which he has entered, he can truly
say : " The oath which I took before God and the Nation, I
" have tried to fulfill."
This is not the time or the place to follow the varying for-
tunes of this war. To one act alone of Mr. Lincoln's I ad-
vert. For a year and a half we had been unsuccessful in
quelling the rebellion. Mr. Lincoln believed it was his duty,
as Commander-in-Chief, to deprive the rebels of that which
supported them, and on the 22d of September, 1862, he issued
his proclamation that in all those States, which on the 1st of
January, 1863, were in rebellion, the slaves should be free
FOREVER.
I shall not discuss the merits of that act. Of one thing I
am certain, that Abraham Lincoln will never now recall it !
Yes, a second thing I know, that on those blissful shores, and
in that atmosphere of love, where all are equals and all are
free, he does not desire to-day to recall it ! Yes ! a third thing
I know, the American people, seeing the havoc it has wrought,
will never, never, never recall it.
And now Abraham Lincoln's work is done. He has left
19 1 4
US forever ! lie has accomplished vastly more than at his in-
duction to office he modestly promised. He did not live to
see the full consummation of his labors, but from Pisgah he
viewed the promised land. And to-day, we, of all political
parties, viewing the altar where he lies a sacrifice, find our
hearts moved to a warmer and higher patriotism.
It is a delicate duty to interpret the Providence of God.
One thing is certain — God never teaches us to hate any fellow
creature, nor to take vengeance in our own hands. lie teaches
us to love justice and to loathe iniquity. And I believe this
Providence should teach us to hate the Kebellion and Slavery,
the murderers of our President, more than ever before, and in
*
imitation of him we lament, and so far as is consistent with
the inflexible laws of justice, forgive as we desire to be for-
given.
I have not the time or the ability to give a correct analysis
of Mr. Lincoln's characteristics. He is not one of those
ephemeral characters, to which a fervid imagination might add
an unreal lustre, or from which a want of appreciation might
detract. His life and character are substantial things in the
world's history, upon which time, after a rigid scrutiny, will
pass an irreversable judgment. That judgment will be to the
honor of his name, and to the glory of the Nation.
But pardon a word as to his characteristics.
I do not believe in the truth of the maxim, " Vox 2^oj)uli\
vox Dei^^ but I do believe that no man has appended to his
name by his associates in daily life, the prefix "honest" who
is not a man of sterling integrity, and he was known for years
in the West as "Honest Abraham Lincoln." He was a
faithful man.
Many gifted men, fostered by our free institutions, have
appeared on the stage of public life, but in how few of them
has the keen and jealous vision of the people failed to dis-
cover ambition, the taint of sellishness, and the stooping for
power? But Mr. Lincoln is believed by the peo])le to have
lived not for hiniseJf, but for his country, lli^ star in the con
20
stellations of history will be known as his^ by its unsullied
lustre.
As a patriot, lie did not confine liis efforts to the rescue, or
to the grandeur of the Kepublic, and so convert even the Ke-
public, as did the Eomans, into a magnifident idol, but in the
universality of his benevolence he comprehended the elevation
and the happiness of all his countrymen — of the master as
well as of the slave, and of those of his race beyond the great
waters as well as to those who are here.
As a statesman, I can only say, that I think he was more
wise, had more foresight, more penetration into the future?
than most, perhaps than any, of his cotemporaries. So well
convinced had the people become of his superior wisdom, that
they rendered a cheerful acquiescence in measures, which,
emanating from another, they would have looked upon with
distrust and doubt.
A word as to the qualities of his heart. The only stricture
I ever heard upon him in this regard is, that he was too kind
and too lenient. That is a blessed criticism for one who has
gone to Eternity, dependent upon the mercy of his God. He
luas merciful to the transgressor, but did he ever parley with
the transgression? The two offences he had to deal with
were Slavery and Kebellion against Freedom. Let the man
in all the world who has done or suffered more for the de-
struction of both become his critic. T cannot be. But he
was tender-hearted, and often and often when some poor boy-
soldier has been tempted to desert, and the military penalty of
death has been adjudged against him, Mr. LiNCOLisr has inter-
posed to save his life. He may have been wrong, but right or
wrong, we all love him the better for it.
Of his religious character, I can only say, that he of all men
was no pretender ; he was an honest man, and being so, the
spirit of his numerous proclamations are plenary evidence of
his humble reliance on God. Pardon the recital of an inci-
dent. A gentleman, as I am credibly informed, visited the
President, and an interview was appointed for seven o'clock
21 i^
the next morning. As the business was of much importance
to the gentleman, he was on the alert, and when he reached
the President's he found it was only six o'clock. He walked
to the rear of "the mansion and was attracted by a voice which
he recognized as that of Mr. Linx'OLN', in a retired back room.
He listened and found the President was praying to his God
«
for his country.
We need not this proof — the man's life, principles and
utterances, prove his faitli. And we may joyfully believe that
a life of so much excellence was but the preface to a better
life — clothed in a righteousness not his own.
I might detain you longer. I might point out to you wliat
he accomplished for us, but I forbear.
Let me oidy say : lie has estcddl^Iicd it, that the will of the
majority, restrained oiJf/ by the Constitution of our fathers, is
the sovereign power of this Nation. He has cstaldlshed it, that
this Government is not a confederation of petty sovereignties,
any of which may at will dissolve the Government, but that
We are a great Nation, having in ourselves under God, the
power of life and of self-preservation.
He has done one thing more.
When the Roman master would free a slave, he brought
him to the Court of the Praetor Urbanus in the Forum, placed
him on a stool, then gave him a whirl, and in the hearing of
all the people shouted, ^^ Liber Esto! Libcr Esio ! ''^ Be Free !
Be Free ! and he became a freedman.
Abraham Lin'coln, as the instrument of God, has in the
cadence of heavenly music shouted, " Liber Esto ! IJbcr Esto .'"
before the world in the ears of four millions of God's creatures.
Rest now — thy work is done, thy life's an epoch and a
blessing. Rest !
" For thou art Freedom's now nncl Fame's
" One of the few, tlic immortal namca
" That were not born to die."'
22
THE REMAINS IN NEW JERSEY.
On Monday, April 24tli, the remains of the lamented President passed
tlirougli Newark, accompanied by ]\rcssrs. :\rARCUS L. Ward, Joseph
P. Bradley, Andrew Lemassena, Frederick B. Kuhnhold, Cort-
LANDT Parker and Andrew Atha, of the Citizens' Committee. The
Newark Daily Advertiser^ of the 24th, says :
" Shortly after 7 o'clock this morning, crowds of people began to
'father upon Raili'oad avenue, between Market and Chestnut streets, and
soon not only covered the entire street but all the adjoining house-tops,
sheds and windows. A feeling of deep sorrow appeared to pervade the
entire mass, wliile the fluttering of the black trimmings from the neigh-
Ijoring buildmgs, the mourning badges upon the coat or mantle, and
the other tokens of grief, gave an unusually sombre cast to the scene.
" Shortly before 9 o'clock, the members of the Common Council, city
officers, clergy, a detachment of the Veteran Reserve Coii3S, and the city
police, took possession of the Market street depot, and after removing
the crowd, awaited the arrival of the train, whose approach had been
announced by the arrival of the jnlot locomotive, hea^dly draped in
mourning. Its appearance was heralded by the tolling of l)ells and the
tiring of minute guns, and as the train with the remains passed slowly
alono- the avenue, heads were uncovered and bowed with reverence,
many persons shedding tears.
" The cars remained at the depot only a few minutes and then pro-
ceeded to Jersey City, passing large numbers of citizens who had gath-
ered at the various street crossings, and the Centre street station and
East Newark."
[From the Newark Daily Advertiser, April 2Gth, 1865.]
" A con'espondent of the Boston Advertiser^ who accomjDanied the
funeral train fi-om Washington to New York, says of the scene in this
city on Monday morning :
'The incidents of the morning's journey were similar to those seen
elsewhere. Sometimes the track was lined on both sides for miles with
a continuous array of people. The most imjiressive scene of the whole
route thus t\ir was furnished by the city of Newark, although no stop of
any length was made there. The track runs directly through the city,
and the space on each side of the road is very broad, and afforded ample
room for spectators. It seemed as if the inhabitants of Newark had re-
solved to turn out en masse to pay their brief tribute of respect to the
memory of the departed as his cofhn passed by. For a distance of a
mile, the observer on the train could perceive only one sea of Luman
beings. It was not a crowd surging with excitement or impatience like
most great assemblages, but stood quiet and aj^parently subdued with
grief unspeakable. Every man with hardly an exception, from one end
of the town to the other, stood bareheaded while the train passed, half
of the women were crying, and every face bore an expression of sincere
sadness. Housetops, fences, and the very switches beside the track,
were covered with men. Words can do no justice to the spectacle. We
90
16
liavc become used to tliiillinL,^ scenes by the experience of our journey,
but nowhere have we seen anythhig more touchiu''- than the simple una-
nimity witli which tlie men and women of Newark left their avocations
and waited beside the track for the passage of the funeral train.'
" Wc may add to the above, that Governor Stone, of Iowa, who was
on the train, stated to a gentleman of this city that at no point in the
long journey had the tribute to the lamented deceased exceeded in fervor
and touchiug solemnity that here displayed.''
ABRAHAM LIXTOLX:
A PAPER
READ liKFORK
The Royal Historical Socip:tv,
London, ]ink iCiii. 1881.
15V
Hon. ISAAC N. ARNOLD,
I'RESIDKNT OF THE CHICACO HISTORICAL SOCIETY, AND IION.»KAKY lEI.l.OW
OF THE ROYAL HISTORICAL SOCIETY, LONDON.
KKPRINTKI> FROM
Transactions of ihe Ronai. Hisiokk, ai. Society.
Vol. X.
CHICAGO:
F K R C r S I' K I N I' I N (; C O M P A N V
I 8 8 ^^
OFFICERS AND COUNCIL MAY, 1881.
TnK Kk.hi HoN'ORAni.K Lijkd Ai;i;RitAui , 1. R.S.
lli> Grace thk Dukk of Wkstminster, K.Ci.
'I 'hi RicHi Hox. iHK Eart. or Roskbkrv.
KiLiHT Hon. Lord de Lisle and Dudley.
The Ri(;ht Hon. Lord Selborne.
Sir John Lubbock, Bari., M.P.. D.C.L.
James Hevwood, Esq., F.R.S.
(iEORGE Harrls, Esq., LL.U., F.I. A.
Cornelius Walford, Esq., F.I. A.
^ u n c i f .
GusTAVUS George Zerffi, Esq., Ph. I).. F. R..S. L., Chairman.
S[r Charles Farquhar Shand, LL. I)., Vice-C/iainnan.
Right Hon. Earl Ferrers.
The Righi Hon. Lord Ronald Gowkr.
John H. Chapman, Esq., M.A., F.S.A.
Hyde Clark, Esq., D.C.L.
Rky. J. M. Crombie, F.G.S., F.L.S.
J. Baker Greene, Esq., M.B., LL.B.
Henry H. Howorth, Es(j., F.S.A.
Alderman Hurst.
Captain E. C. Johnson.
Tito Pagliardini, Esq.
1'. K. J. Shenton, Esq.
Rev. Robin.son Thornton, D.D. (Oxon).
liRYCK McMuRDo Wright, E.sq., F.R.Ci.S.
John Russell, Esq.
^I^ouorari) ir>ccri'tarii an& ilrcaoun'r.
^\'^r. Herba(;k, Esq., F.S.S., i>ondon wwC^ .Suulh-Wcstcrii Bank,
7, Fenchurch Street, London, F.C.
^iOrariait.
W. S. W. \' \ux, Esq., M.A., F.R.S. L., Societys Rooms, jj, Albe-
marle Street, W.
Among the Honorary Fellows of the Society are the following:
Hon. (ieorge Bancroft, Washington, U.S.A.
Hon. Charles H. Bell, President of the New Hampshire Historical
Society, Exeter, New Hampshire.
James Anthony Froude, Esq., LL.D., London.
His Excellency General Grant, Ex-President of the United States.
Hon. Horatio Gates Jones, Historical Society of Pennsylvania.
The Right-Rev. Bisho]) Kip, San Francisco.
Professor H. W. Longfellow, Cambridge, Mass., U.S.A.
Frederic de Peyster, Esq., President of the Hist. Soc. of New York.
A'ery Rev. Dean Stanley, D.D., London.
"Pownsend A\'ard, Esq., Historical Society of Pennsylvania.
Hon. M. P. Wilder, Boston, Mass., U.S.A.
Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, LL.D.. President of the Historical So-
ciety of Massachusetts.
Hon. Isaac N. Arnold, President Hist. Soc. of Chicago, L'.S.A.
19
PROCEEDINGS
OF
The Royal Historical Socii^tv.
On the evcniiii;" of tlic i6th of June, 1881, the Society,
and a large number of in\-ited i^uests, met at the Society's
Rooms, Xo. 22 Albemarle Street, London.
Tlie chairman, Mr. Alderman Hurst, ]{\-Ma}'or of Bed-
ford, in introducing^ Mr. Arnold to the Socict}- said that the
occasion was the more interesting to him from the fact that
the first emigrants to America were natives of his own part
of the country, l^edfordshire and the neighboring counties.
It gave him great pleasure to see among them that evening
a member of the Society from the distant shores of America,
and in the name of the Society he gave him hearts' welcome.
They all knew and admired the great man of whom the}-
were about to hear, and the paper would proxe doubly
interesting, coming as it did from one of his fellow-countr\'-
men and one who had known and been associated in political
duties with Lincoln.
Mr. Arnold then read the following paper upon Mr.
Lincoln :
20
ABRAHAM LINXOLN.
.Mr. PRKSIDKN T. LaDII.s AM) ( i KN Tl.KMKN :
Till", noblest inheritance \vc, Americans, deri\c from
our British ancestors is the memor}' and exami)le of the
threat and L^ood men who adorn \our history. They are as
much appreciated and honored on our side of the Atlantic
as on this. In i;i\ing to the En<;lish-speakin^j world Wash-
ington and Lincoln we think we re]oa\', in large part, our
obligation. Their preeminence in American histor\' is
recognized, and the republic, which the one foiuided imd the
other preserved, has already crowned tliem as models for her
children.
In the annals of almost e\er\' great nation some names
appear standing out clear and prominent, names of those
who have influenced or controlled the great events which
make up histor\'. Such were Wallace and Hruce in Scot-
land, Alfred and the Edwards, William the Conqueror,
Cromwell. Pitt, Nelson, and Wellington in ICngland. and
such in a still greater degree were Washington and Lincoln.
I am here, from near his home, with the hope that 1
may, to some extent, aid \'ou in forming a just and true
estimate of Abraham Lincoln. 1 knew him, somewhat inti-
mately, in private and public life for more than twent>'
years. We practised law at the same bar, and tluring his
administration, I was a member of Congress, seeing him
and conferring with him often, and, therefore, 1 ma\' hope.
I trust without \anit\' that I shall be able to contribute
something of value in enabling you to judge of him. Wc
in America, as well as you in the old world, believe that
8
'•blood will tell"; that it is a great blessing to have had an
honorable and worthy ancestry. We believe that moral
principle, physical and intellectual \igor in the forefathers
are qualities likely to be manifested in the descendants.
Fools are not the fathers or mothers of great men. I claim
for Lincoln, humble as was the station to which he was
born, and rude and rough as were his early surroundings,
that he had such ancestors. I mean that his father and
mother, his grandfather and grandmother, and still further
back, however humble and rugged their condition, were
physically and mentally strong, vigorous men and women;
hardy and successful pioneers on the frontier of American
civilization. They were among the early settlers in Virginia,
Kentucky, and Illinois, and knew how to take care of them-
selves in the midst of difficulties and perils; how to live
and succeed where the weak would perish. These ances-
tors of Lincoln, for several generations, kept on the ver}"
crest of the wave of Western settlements — on the frontier^
where the struggle for life was hard and the strong alone
survived.
His grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, and his father,
Thomas, were born in Rockingham County, Virginia.
About 1 78 1, while his father was still a lad, his grand-
father's family emigrated to Kentucky, and was a contem-
porary with Daniel Boone, the celebrated Indian fighter and
early hero of that State. This, a then wild and wooded
territory, was the scene of those fierce and desperate con-
flicts between the settlers and the Indians which gave it the
name of "The dark and bloody ground."
When Thomas Lincoln, the father of the President, was
six years old, his father (Abraham, the grandfather of the
President) was shot and instantly killed by an Indian. The
boy and his father were at work in the corn-field, near their
log-cabin home. Mordecai, the elder brother of the lad, at
work not far away, witnessed the attack. He saw his father
fall, and ran to the cabin, seized his ready-loaded rifle, and
springing to the loop-hole cut through the logs, he saw the
21
Indian, who had seized the bo\', carr\-in<'' him awaw Rais-
in[^ his rifle and ainiini,^ at a siher medal, conspicuous on
the breast of the Indian, lie instantly fired. The Indian
fell, and the lad, springing to his feet, ran to the open arms
of his mother at the cabin-door. Amidst such scenes, the
Lincoln famil\' naturalh' produced rude, rough, hardy, and
fearless men, familiar with wood-craft; men who could meet
the extremes of exposure and fatigue, who knew how to
find food and shelter in the forest; men of great powers of
endurance — brave and self-reliant, true and faithful to their
friends, and dangerous to their enemies. Men with minds
to conceive and hands to execute bold enterprises.
It is a curious fact that the grandfather, Abraham Lin-
coln, is noted on the surveys of Daniel Boone as ha\ing
purchased, of the Gox'ernment, fixe hundred acres of land.
Thomas Lincoln, the father, was also the purchaser of gov-
ernment land, and President Lincoln left, as a part of his
estate, a quarter-section (one hundred and sixty acres), which
he had received from the Lnited States, for services ren-
dered in early life as a volunteer soldier in the Hlack-IIawk
Indian war. Thus for three generations tlie Lincoln family
were land-owners directly from the Government.
Such was the lineage and family from which President
Lincoln sprung. Such was the enxironment in which his
character was developed.
He was born in a log-cabin, in Kentucky, on the I2th
of Februar}', 1809.
It will aid you in picturing to yourselves this \'oung man
and his surroundings, to know that, from boyhood to the
age of twent\'-one, in winter his head was protected from
the cold by a cap made of the skin of the coon, fox, or prai-
rie-wolf, and that he often wore the buckskin breeches and
hunting-shirt of the pioneer.
He grew up to be a man of majestic stature and Her-
culean strength. ILul he appeared in h^nglaiul or Nor-
mandy some centuries ago, he would have been the founder
of some great Baronial famil\'. p(^ssibl\' of a Royal tl\'nast\'.
lO
He could have wielded, with ease, the two-handed sword of
Guy, the great Earl of Warwick, or the battle-axe of Rich-
ard of the Lion-heart.
HIS EDUCATION AND TKAIXINCi.
The world is naturally interested in knowing what was
the education and training which fitted Lincoln for the
great work which he accomplished. On the extreme fron-
tier, the, means of book-learning was very limited. The
common free -schools, which now closely follow the heels
of the pioneer and organized civil government, and prevail
all over the United States, had not then reached the Far-
West. An itinerant school-teacher wandered occasionally
into a settlement, opened a private school for a few months,
and at such Lincoln attended at different times, in all about
twelve months. His mother, who was a woman of practical
good sense, of strong physical organization, of deep relig-
ious feeling, gentle and self-reliant, taught him to read and
write.
Although she died when he was only nine years old,
she had already laid deep the foundations of his excellence.
Perfect truthfulness and integrity, love of justice, self-con-
trol, reverence for God, these constituted the solid basis of
his character. These we're all implanted and carefully culti-
vated by his mother, and he always spoke of her with the
deepest respect and the most tender affection. "All that I
am, or hope to be," said he, when President, "I owe to my
sainted mother."
He early manifested the most eager desire to learn, but
there were no libraries, and few books in the back settle-
ments in which he lived. Among the stray volumes, which
he found in the possession of the illiterate families by which
he was surrounded, were ^sop's fables, Bunyan's Pilgrim's
Progress, a life of W^ashington, the poems of Burns, and the
Bible. To these his reading was confined, and he read
them o\'er and over again, until they became as familiar
almost as the alphabet. His memory was marvelous, and I
9 9
1 1
nc\cr \cl nicl ihc man nun'c faniili.ii' with llic Hil^lc than
Aljiahani Lincoln. This was apparent in after -hfc. botli
fnun his C()n\c'rsati(»n and writings, as scarceU' a spcccli or
state paper of his in which iUustrations and alhisions from
the I^ible can not l^e found.
Willie a N'ounij man. he made for himself, of coarse
paper, a scrap-book, into which lie copied cvcr}'thing which
particularl)' j^leased him. He found an old EngHsh gram-
mar, which he studied b\- liimself; and he formed, from hi^
constant study o( the l^ible, that simple, plain, clear Anglo-
Sax(Mi style, so effectixe with the people. He illustrated
the maxim that it is better to know thorouglilx' a few good
books than to skim o\er manw When fifteen \ears old, he
began (w ith a \ iew of improxing himself) to write on \ari-
ous subjects ami to j^ractise in making political and other
speeches. These he made so amusing and attractix'e tliat
liis father had to forbid his making -them in working-hours,
for. said he, "when Abe begins to speak, all the hands flock
to hear him." His mcmor)- was so retentix'e that he could
repeat, vcrbatiin, the sermons and political speeches which
he heard.
Wliile his da\'s were spent in hard manual labor, and
his exenings in study, he grew up strong in bodx'. healthful
in mind, with no bad liabits; no stain of intemperance, pro-
fanity, or vice of anv kind. He used neither tobacco nor
intoxicating drinks, and, thus lixing. he grew to be six feet
four inches high, and a giant in strength. In all athletic
sports he had no equal. I have heard an old comrade sa\',
"he could strike the hardest blow with the woodman's axe.
and the maul of the rail-splitter, jumj) higher, run faster
than any of his fellows, and there were none, far or near,
who could la\- him on his back." Kind and cordial, he
early developed st) much wit and humor, such a capacity
for narratixe and storx-telling. that he xvas exerxxvhere a
most welcome guest.
12
A LAND SURVEYOR.
Like Washington, he became, in early hfe, a good prac-
tical surveyor, and I ha\e, in my library, the identical book
from which, at eighteen }'ears of age, he studied the art of
surveying. B\' his skill and accuracy, and by the neatness
of his work, he was sought after by the settlers, to survey
and fix the boundaries of their farms, and in this way, in
part, he earned a support while he studied law. In 1837,
self-taught, he was admitted and licensed, by the Supreme
Court of Illinois, to practise law.
A LAWYER.
It is difficult for me to describe, and, perhaps, more
difficult for you to conceive the contrast when Lincoln
began lo practise law, between the forms of the adminis-
tration of justice in Westminster Hall, and in the rude log
court-houses of Illinois. I recall today what was said a few
years ago by an Illinois friend, when we visited, for the first
time, Westminster Abbey, and as we passed into Westmin-
ster Hall. "This," he exclaimed, "this is the grandest forum
in the world. Here Fox, Burke, and Sheridan hurled their
denunciations against Warren Hastings. Here Brougham
defended Queen Caroline. And this," he went on to repeat,
in the words of Macauley (words as familiar in America as
here), "This is the great hall of William Rufus, the hall
which has resounded with acclamations at the inauguration
of thirt}' kings, and which has witnessed the trials of Bacon
and Somers and Strafford and Charles the First." "And
yet," I replied, "I have seen justice administered on the
prairies of Illinois without pomp or ceremony, everything
simple to rudeness, and yet, when Lincoln and Douglas led
at the bar, I have seen justice administered by judges as
pure, aided by advocates as eloquent, if not as learned, as
any who ever presided, or plead, in Westminster Hall."
The common-law of England (said to be the perfection
of human wisdom) was administered in both forums, and
the decisions of each tribunal were cited as authority in the
13
23
other; both ilhistrating that reverence for. and obedience
to, law, wliich is the glor\- of the ICnghsh-speakinf^ race.
Lincoln was a great law)'er. He sought to convince
rather b\' the application of principle than b\' the citation
of authorities. On the w hole, die was stronger w ith llu-
jur\' than with the court. 1 do not know that there has
e\er been, in iVnierica. a greater or more successful advo-
cate before a jur\-, on the right side, than Abraham Lin-
coln. He had a marvelous power of conciliating and im-
pressing everyone in his favor. A stranger entering the
court, ignorant of the case, and listening a few moments to
Lincoln, would fmd himself inx'oluntarih' on his side and
w ishing him success. He was a quick and accurate reader
of character, and seemed to comprehend, almost intuiti\el\',
the peculiarities of those with whom he came in contact.
His manner was so candid, his methods so direct, so fair, he
seemed so anxious that truth and justice should prex'ail, that
everyone w ished him success. He excelled in the statement
of his case. Howe\'er complicated, he would disentangle it,
and present the important and turning-point in a wa\' so
clear that all could understand. Indeed, hi^ statement
often alone won his cause, rendering argument unnecessarw
The judges would often stop him b}' saying, "If that is the
case, brother Lincoln, we w ill hear the other side."
His abilit\- in examining a witness, in bringing out
clearly the important facts, was only surpassed h\- his skil-
ful cross-examinations. He could often compel a witness
to tell the truth, when he meant to lie. He could make a
jur\' laugh, and generalls' weep, at liis pleasure. On the
right side, and when fraud «>r injustice were to be exposed,
or innocence \indicated, he rose to the highest range of
eloquence, and was irresistible. But he must ha\-e faith in
his cause to bring out his full strength. His wit and humor,
his quaint and homelx' illu-^tralions, his inexhaustible stores
of anectlote, alwa}'s to the point, added greatl\- tn his power
as a jur\-adv()cate.
He ne\er misstated evidence or misrepresented his
opponent's case, but met it fairl}' and squarel}-.
14
He remained in acti\e practice until his nomination, in
May, i860, for the presidency. He was employed in the
leading cases in both the federal and state courts, and had
a large clientelage, not onl)' in Illinois, but was frequently
called, on special retainers, to other states.
AN ILLINOIS POLrriCL\N.
B\' his eloquence and popularity, he became, earl\- in
life, the leader of the old Whig party, in Illinois. He served
as member of the State Legislature, was the candidate of
his party for speaker, presidential elector, and United States
senator, and was a member of the lower house of Congress.
SLAVERY.
When the independence of the American republic was
established, African slavery was tolerated as a local and
temporary institution. It was in conflict with the moral
sense, the religious con\ictions of the people, and the politi-
cal principles on which the government was founded.
But having been tolerated, it soon became an organ-
ized, aggressive power, and, later, it became the master of
the government. Conscious of its inherent ^\'eakness, it
demanded and obtained additional territory for its expan-
sion. First, the great Louisiana Territory was purchased,
then Florida, and then Texas.
By the repeal, in 1854, of the prohibition of slavery
north of the Hne of ;^6'', 30' of latitude (known in America
as the "Missouri Compromise"), the slavery question became
the leading one in American politics, and the absorbing and
exciting topic of discussion. It shattered into fragments
the old conservative Whig party, with which Mr. Lincoln
had, theretofore, acted. It divided the Democratic party,
and new parties were organized upon issues growing
directly out of the question of slavery.
The leader of that portion of the Democratic party
which continued, for a time, to act with the slavery party,
was Stephen Arnold Douglas, then representing Illinois in
the United States Senate. He was a bold, ambitious, able
15
24
man, and had, thus lar, been unifornils' successful. He had
introduced and carried through Con^nx'ss. against llie nK^st
vehement opposition, the repeal of the law, jDrohibilin^"
slavery, called the Missouri Compromise.
THK (<»Nri.sr i;i iwii.N irkki)(.).m and >i.A\i;k\ ix 'ihk
TKKKITORIKS.
The issue ha\in^ been now tlistinctl\' made between
freedom and the extension of sla\'er\' into the territories.
Lincoln and Douglas, the leaders of the Free-soil and Dem-
ocratic parties, became more than e\'er antagonized. The
conflict between freedom and slavery now became earnest,
fierce, and \iolent, beyond all [)revious political contro-
versies, and from this time on, Lincoln plead the cause of
libert)' w ith an energ\'. abilit\', and elocpience, which rapidh'
gained for him a national reputation. From this time dn,
through the tremendous struggle, it was he who grasped
the helm and led his part\' to \ictor\'. Conscious of a
great cause, inspired by a generous love of libert)', and
animated b\' the moral sublimit}' of his great theme, he
proclaimed his determination, e\er thereafter, **to speak
for freedom, and against sla\er\', until e\er\'\\ here the sun
shall shine, the rain shall fall, and the wind blow upt)n no
man who goes forth to unrequited toil."
THi: LINCOLN AND DOUCJLAS DEBATE.
The great debate between Lincoln and Douglas, in
1858, was. unquestionabl)', both with reference to the ability
of the speakers and its influence upon opinion and e\ents,
the most important in American histor)-. I do not think I
do injustice to others, nor over-estimate their importance,
when I sa\' that the speeches of Lincoln published, circu-
lated, and reail throughout the I^Vee-States, did more than
an\- other agenc}' in creating the public opinit)n, which pre-
pared the way for the overthrow of sla\er)'. The speeches
of John Ouinc)' i\dams, and those of Senator Sumner, were
more learned and scholarl)', and those of Lo\ejo\' and
Wendell Phillips were more \ehement and impassioned;
i6
Senators Seward, Chase, and Hale spoke fconi a more con-
spicuous forum, but Lincoln's speeches were as philosophic,
as able, as earnest as any, and his manner had a simplicity
and directness, a clearness of illustration, and his language
a plainness, a \ngor, an Anglo-Saxon strength, better adapted
than an}' other to reach and influence the understanding
and sentiment of the common people.
At the time of this memorable discussion, both Lincoln
and Douglas were in the full maturity of their powers.
Douglas being forty-five and Lincoln forty-nine years old.
Douglas had had a long training and experience as a popu-
lar speaker. On the hustings (stump, as we say in America)
and in Congress, and especially in the United States Senate,
he had been accustomed to meet the ablest debaters of his
State and of the Nation.
His friends insisted that never, either in conflict with a
single opponent, or when repelling the assaults of a whole
party, had he been discomfited. His manner w^as bold,
vigorous, and aggressive. He was ready, fertile in resources,
familiar with political history, strong and severe in denun-
ciation, and he handled with skill all the weapons of the
dialectician. His iron will, tireless energy, united w^ith
physical and moral courage, and great personal magnetism,
made him a natural leader, and gave him personal popula-
rity.
Lincoln was also now a thoroughly -trained speaker.
He had contended successfully at the bar, in the legislature,
and before the people, with the ablest men of the West,
including Douglas, with whom he always rather sought than
avoided a discussion. But he was a courteous and generous
opponent, as is illustrated by the following beautiful allusion
to his rival, made in 1856, in one of their joint debates.
"Twent}' years ago, Judge Douglas and I first became
acquainted; we were both young then; he a trifle younger
than L Even then we were both ambitious, I, perhaps,
quite as much as he. With me, the race of ambition has
been a flat failure. With him, it has been a splendid sue-
25
cess. His name fills the Nation, and it is not unknown in
forcicjn lands. I affect no contempt for the liif^h eminence
he has reached; so reached, that tlie oppressed of ni}'
species mi<^ht have shared with me in the elcxation, I would
rather stand on that eminence than w ear the richest crown
that ever pressed a monarch's brow."
We know, and the world knows, that Lincoln did reacli
that hii;h, nay, far higher eminence, and that he did reach
it in such a way that the "oppressed" did share with him in
the elevation.
Such were the champions who, in 1858, were to discuss,
before the voters of Illinois, and with the whole Nation as
spectators, the political questions then pendini;', and especi-
ally the \ital questions relating' to slavery. It was not a
sinL;le C(Miibat, but extended through a whole campai<^ni.
On the return of Doucflas from Washington to Illinois,
in Jul)'. 1858, Lincoln and Douglas being candidates for the
senate, the former challenged his rival to a series of joint
debates, to be held at the principal towns in the State.
The challenge was accepted, and it was agreed that each
discussion should occup\' three hours; that the speakers
should alternate in the opening and the close — the opening
speech to occup\' one hour, the reply one hour and a-half,
and the close half-an-hour. The meetings were lield in the
open air, for no hall could hold the \ast crowds which
attended.
In addition to the immense mass of hearers, reporters
from all the principal newspapers in the countr\' attended,
so that the morning after each debate the speeches were
published and eagerly read b\' a large part, j^erliaps a
majority of all the voters of the United States.
The attention of the American people w as thus arrested,
and they watched with intense interest, and devoured every
argument of the chamj)ions.
Each of these great men, 1 doubt not, at that time
sincerely believed he was right. Douglas' ardor, while in
such a conflict, would make him think, for the time being,
2
i8
he was right, and I knoiv that Lincohi argued for freedom
against the extension of sla\'ery with the most profound
conviction that on the result hung the fate of his country.
Lincoln had two advantages over Douglas; he had the best
side of the question, and the best temper. He was always
good-humored, always had an apt story for illustration,
while Douglas sometimes, when hard pressed, was irritable.
Douglas carried away the most popular applause, but
Lincoln made the deeper and more lasting impression.
Douglas did not disdain an immediate ad captandiun
triumph, while Lincoln aim.ed at permanent conviction.
Sometimes when Lincoln's friends urged him to raise a
storm of applause (which he could always do by his happy
illustrations and amusing stories), he refused, saying the
occasion was too serious, the issue too grave. "I do not
seek applause," said he, "nor to amuse the people, I want
to convince them."
It was often observed, during this canvass, that while
Douglas was sometimes greeted with the loudest cheers
when Lincoln closed, the people seemed solemn and seri-
ous, and could be heard all through the crowd, gravely and
anxiously discussing the topics on which he had been
speaking.
Douglas secured the immediate object of the struggle,
but the manly bearing, tlie vigorous logic, the honesty and
sincerity, the great intellectual powers exhibited by Mr.
Lincoln, prepared the wa}', and two years later, secured
his nomination and election to the presidency. It is a
touching incident, illustrating the patriotism of both these
statesmen, that, widely as they differed, and keen as had
been their rivalry, just as soon as the life of the Republic
was menaced by treason, they joined hands to shield and
save the country they loved.
The echo and the prophecy of this great debate was
heard, and inspired hope in the far- oft" cotton and rice-
fields of the South. The toiling blacks, to use the words
of Whittier, began hopefully to pray:
26
'9
"We pray de Lord. He gib us signs
l)at some day we be free.
I )e Xorf wind tell it to de pines,
1 )e wild duck to de sea.
" We tink it when de church-bell ring,
We dream it in de dreani,
De rice-bird mean it wiien he sing,
De eagle when he scream."
THE COUl'KK-IXSTIl'UTE SPKKCH.
Ill I'Y'bruary, i860, Mr. Lincoln was called to address
the people of New York, and speaking to a vast audience
at the Cooper Institute (the Exeter Hall of the United
States), the poet Bryant presidint^-, he made, perhaps, the
most learned, logical, and exhausti\e speech to be found
in American anti-slavery literature. The question was, the
power of the National (jovernment to exclude slavery from
the territories. The orator from the prairies, the mornings
after this speech, awoke to find himself famous.
He closed with these words, "Let us ha\-c faith that
right makes might, and in that faith let us, to the end, do-
our duty as we understand it."
This address was the carefull)'-finished product of not
an orator and statesman onK', but also of an accurate stu-
dent of American histor\-. It confirmed and elevated the
reputation he had already accjuired in the ])ou<^das debates,
and caused his nomination and election to the presidency.
If time permitted, I would like to follow Mr. Lincoln,
step by step, to enumerate his measures one after another,
until, by prudence and coura«^e, and matchless statesman-
shi]), he led the loyal people of the republic to the final
and complete overthrow of slaver\- and the restoration of
the Union.
From the time he left his humble home in Illinois, to
assume the responsibilities of power, the political horizon
black with treason and rebellion, the terrific thunder clouds,
— the tempest which had been feathering and growing more
black and threatening for }'ears, now read)' to explode, — on
20
and on, through long years ot bloody war, down to his final
triumph and death — what a drama! His eventful life termi-
nated by his tragic death, has it not the dramatic unities
and the awful ending of the Old Greek tragedy?
HIS FAREWELL TO HIS NEIGHBORS.
I know of nothing in history more pathetic than the
scene when he bade good-bye to his old friends and neigh-
bors. Conscious of the difficulties and dangers before him,
difficulties which seemed almost insurmountable, with a sad-
ness as though a presentiment that he should return no
more was pressing upon him, but with a deep religious trust
which was characteristic, on the platform of the rail-car-
riage which was to bear him away to the Capital, he paused
and said, "No one can realize the sadness I feel at this part-
ing. Here I have lived more than a quarter of a century.
Here mv children were born, and here one of them lies
buried. I know not how soon I shall see you again. I go
to assume a task more difficult than that which has devolved
upon any other man since the days of Washington. He
never would have succeeded but for the aid of Divine Pro-
vidence upon which, at all times, he relied. ^ '" ''''
I hope you, my dear friends, will all pray that I may receive
that Divine assistance, without which I can not succeed, but
with which success is certain."
And as he waved his hand in farewell to the old home,
to which he w^as never to return, he heard the response
from many old friends, "God bless and keep you." "God
protect you from all traitors." His neighbors "sorrowing
most of all," for the fear "that they should see his face no
more."
HIS INAUGURAL AND APPEAL FOR PEACE.
In his inaugural address, spoken in the open air, and
from the eastern portico of the capitol, and heard by thrice
ten thousand people, on the very verge of ci\'il war, he
made a most earnest appeal for peace. He gave the most
2 I
solemn assurance, that "the property, peace, and security of
no portion of the RepubHc should be endant^ered by his
athiiinistration." l^ut lie declared with firmness, that the
union of the States must be "perpetual," and that he should
"execute the laws faithfully in every State." "In doinc^
this,'" said he, "there need be no bloodshed nor \iolence,
nor shall there be, unless forced upon the National Au-
thorit)'." In regard to the difficulties which thus divided
the people, he appealed to all to abstain from precipitate
action, assuring them that intelligence, patriotism, and a
firm reliance on Him who has never yet forsaken the
Republic, "were competent to adjust, in the best wa\', all
existing troubles."
His closing appeal against civil war was most touch-
ing, "In your hands," said he, and his voice for the first
time faltered, "In your hands, and not in mine, are the
momentous issues of civil war." " '" '- "You can
liave no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors."
''^ "''^ "I am," continued he, "loth to close, we are not
enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies, though
passion may strain, — it must not break the bonds of affec-
A. * "
tion.
The answer to these appeals was the attack upon Fort
Sumpter, and immediately broke loose all the maddening
passions which riot in blood and carnage and ci\il war.
I know not how I can better picture and illustrate the
condition of affairs and of public feeling at that time, than
by narrating two or three incidents.
DOUGLAS' PROPHECY, JANUARY I, 1861.
in Januar}', 1861, Senator Douglas, then lateU' a candi-
date for the presidenc}', with Mrs. Douglas, one of the most
beautiful and fascinating women in America, a relative of
Mrs. Madison, occupied at Washington a house in a most
magnificent block of dwellings, called the "Minnesota
Block." On New- Year's -day, 1861, Gen. Charles Stewart
of New York, from whose lips I write an account (jf the
incident, says:
o o
"I was making a New-Year's-call on Senator Douglas;
after some conversation, 1 asked him:
"'What will be the result, Senator, of the efforts of
Jefferson Davis and his associates to divide the Union?'
We were," said Stewart, "sitting on the sofa together when
I asked the question. Douglas rose, walked rapidly up
and down the room for a moment, and then pausing, he
exclaimed, with deep feeling and excitement:
" 'The Cotton States are making an effort to draw in
the Border States to their schemes of Secession, and I am
but too fearful thev will succeed. If thev do, there will be
the most fearful civil war the world has ever seen, lasting
for years.'
"Pausing a moment, he looked like one inspired, while
he proceeded: 'Virginia, over yonder, across the Potomac,'
pointing toward Arlington, 'will become a charnel-house —
but in the end the Union will triumph. They will try,' he
continued, 'to get possession of this Capital, to give them
prestige abroad, but in that eftbrt they will never succeed;
the North will rise eii masse to defend it. But Washington
will become a city of hospitals, the churches will be used
for the sick and wounded. This house,' he continued, 'the
Minnesota Block will be devoted to that purpose before the
end of the war.' "^
Every word he said was literally fulfilled — all the
churches nearly were used for the wounded, and the Min-
nesota Block, and the very room in which this declaration
was made, became the "Douglas Hospital."
"'What justification for all this.''' said Stewart.
"'There is no justification,' replied Douglas.
"'I will go as far as the constitution will permit to
maintain their just rights. But,' said he, rising upon his
feet and raising his arm, 'if the Southern States attempt
to secede, I am in favor of their having just so many slaves,
and just so much slave territory as they can hold at the
point of the bayonet, and no more.' "
28
WILL TIIK NORTH 1 ICHT ?
AlaiU' Suuthcrn leaders beliexed there would be no
serious war, and labored kidustriousl\' to impress this idea
on the Southern people.
Ik^njamin V . lUitler, wlio, as a delegate from Massachu-
setts to the Charlestown Convention, had \'oted man\' times
for Brecken ridge, the extreme Southern candidate for presi-
dent, came to Washington in the winter of 1 860-1, to in-
(|uire of his old associates what they meant by their threats.
"We mean," replied the}', "we mean Separation — a
Southern Confederacy. We will ha\e our independence, a
Southern government — with no discordant elements."
"Are \'Ou prepared for war.'" said Butler, coolU'.
"Oh, there will be no war; the North won't fight."
"The North Tc-/// fight," said l^utler, "the North will
send the last i)ia)i and expend the last dollar to maintain the
Government."
"But," replied Ikitler's Southern friends, "the North
can't fight — we have too many allies there."
"You have friends," responded Butler, "in the North,
who will stand b\' \'ou st) long as )'ou fight your battles in
the Union, but the moment you fire on the flag, the North
will be a unit against you." "And," Butler continued, "you
ma)' be assured if w ar comes, slavery euds^
THK SPECIAL SESSION OF CONGRESS, JULY, 1861.
On the brink of this civil war, the President summoned
Congress to meet on the 4th of July, 1861, the anniversary
of our Independence. Seven states had already seceded,
were in open revolt, and the chairs of their representatives,
in both h(juses of Congress, were \acant. It needed but a
glance at these so numerous vacant seats to realize the
extent of the defection, the gravity of the situation, and
the magnitude of the impending struggle. The old pro-
slavery leaders were absent. Some in the rebel govern-
ment, set up at Richmond, and others marshalling troops
24
in the field. Hostile armies were gathering, and from the
dome of the Capitol, across the Potomac, and on toward
Fairfax, in Virginia, could be seen the Confederate flag.
Breckenridge, late the Southern candidate for president,,
now Senator from Kentucky, and soon to lead a rebel army,
still lingered in the Senate. Like Cataline among the
Roman Senators, he was regarded with aversion and dis-
trust. Gloomy and perhaps sorrowful, he said, "I can only
look \\ith sadness on the melancholy drama that is being
enacted."
Pardon the digression, while I relate an incident which
occurred in the Senate at this special session.
Senator Baker of Oregon was making a brilliant and
impassioned reply to a speech of Breckenridge, in which he
denounced the Kentucky senator, for giving aid and encour-
agement to the enemy by his speeches. At length he
paused, and turning toward Breckenridge, and fixing his
eye upon him, he asked, "What would have been thought
if, after the battle of Cannae, a Roman senator had risen
amidst the conscript Fathers, and denounced the war, and
opposed all measures for its success r'
Baker paused, and every eye in the Senate and in the
crowded galleries was fixed upon the almost solitary sena-
tor from Kentucky. Fessenden broke the painful silence
by exclaiming, in low deep tones, which gave expression to
the thrill of indignation, which ran through the hall, "He
would have been hurled from the Tarpeian Rock."
Congress manifested its sense of the gravity of the
situation by authorizing a loan of two hundred and fifty
millions of dollars, and empowering the President to call
into the field five hundred thousand men, and as many
more as he might deem necessary.
SURRENDER OF MASON AND SEIDELL.
No act of the British Government, since the "stamp
act" of the Revolution, has ever excited such intense feel-
ing of hostility toward Gfeat Britain, as her haughty
25
29
clcniaiul for the surrender of Mason and Slidell. It
required //cm- in tlie President to stem the storm of popu-
lar feehn^^ and yield to that demand, and it was, for a
time, the most unpopuhir aet of liis administration. Hut
when the excitement o( the day had passed, it was
appro\cd b)' the sober judi;nicnt of the Nation.
Prince Albert is kindly and f]^ratefull\- remembered in
America, where it is belie\-ed that his action, in modif}'-
in^ the terms of that demand, prt)bably saved the United-
States and Great Britain from the horrors of war.
LINCOLN AND MIL AlloLmON OF SLAVLRV.
When in June, 1858, at his home in Springfield, Mr.
Lincoln startled the people with the declaration, "This
government can not endure, permanenth', half-slave and
half- free," and when, at the close of his speech, to those
who were laborini; for the ultimate extinction of slaver}\
he exclaimed, with the \c)ice of a prophet, "We shall not
fail, if we stand firm, we shall Not fail. Wise councils may
accelerate, or mistakes delay, but sooner or later the vic-
tory is sure to come;" he anticipated success throui^h \ears
of discussion, and final triumph through peaceful and con-
stitutional means b\' the ballot. He did not forsee nor
even dream (unless in those dim m\'sterious shadows, which
sometimes startle by half-re\'ealing the future) his own
elevation to the presidency. He did not then suspect that
he had been appointed by God, and should be choosen by
the people to proclaim the emancipation of a race, and to
save his country. He did not forsee that slaver\- was so
soon to be destro\'ed amidst the flames of war which itself
kindled.
IMS M()I)i:i<.\'l I().\.
He entered upon his administration w ith the single pur-
pose of maintaining national unity, and manv reproachetl
and denounced him for the slowness of his ant i- slavery
measures. The first (jf the series was the abolition of sla-
26
very at the National Capital. This act gave freedom to
three thousand slaves, with compensation to their loyal
masters. Contemporaneous with this was an act confer-
ring freedom upon all colored soldiers who should serve in
the Union armies and upon their families. The next was
an act, which I had the honor to introduce, prohibiting
slavery in all the territories, and wherev^er the National
Government had jurisdiction. But the great, the decisive
act of his administration, was the "Emancipation Procla-
mation."
EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION.
The President had urged with the utmost earnestness
on the lo}'al slave-holders of the Border States, gradual and
compensated emancipation, but in vain. He clearly saw,
all saw, that the slaves, as used by the confederates, were a
vast power, contributing immensely to their ability to carry
on the war, and that by declaring their freedom, he would
convert millions of freedftien into active friends and allies
of the Union. The people knew that he was deliberating
upon the question of issuing this Emancipation Proclama-
tion. At this crisis, the Union men of the Border States
made an appeal to him to withhold the edict, and suffer
slavery to survive.
They selected John J. Crittenden, a venerable and elo-
quent man, and their ablest statesman, to make, on the floor
of Congress, a public appeal to the President, to withhold
the proclamation. Mr. Crittenden had been governor of
Kentucky, her senator in Congress, attorney-general of the
United States, and now, in his old age, covered with honors,
he accepted, like John Ouincy Adams, a seat in Congress,
that in this crisis he might help to save his country.
He was a sincere Union man, but believed it unwise to
disturb slavery. In his speech, he made a most eloquent
and touching appeal from a Kentuckian to a Kentuckian.
He said, among other things, "There is a niche, near to that
of Washington, to him who shall save his country. If Mr.
30
Lincoln will stcj) into that niclic, the fouudtT and the pre-
server of the Republic shall stand side b\' side." " *
(Owen Lovejo)', tlie brother of I^lijah P. Lovejo)', who liad
been mobbed and murdered, because he would not surren-
der the libert)' of the press, replied to Crittenden. .After
his brother's murder, kneelin*; upon the green sod which
covered tliat brother's grav^e, lie had taken a solemn vow
i^{ eternal war upon sla\er\'. V.xqx after, like Peter tlie
Hermit, with a heart of fire and a tongue of lightning, he
liad gone forth, preaching his crusade against slavery. At
length, in his reph', turning to Crittenden, he said, "The
gentleman from Kentuck)' says he has a niche for Abraham
Lincoln, where is it.'"
Crittenden pointed toward Heaven.
Lovejo}' continuing said, "He points upward, but, sir!
if the l^resident follows the counsel of that gentleman, and
becomes the perpetuator of slaver}', he should point doivn-
ward, to some dungeon in the temple of Moloch, who feeds
on human blood, and where are forged chains for human
limbs; in the recesses of whose temple woman is scourged
and man tortured, and outside the walls are K'ing dogs,
gorged with human flesh, as B\Ton describes them lying
around the walls of Stambool." "That," said Lovejoy, "is
a suitable place Tor the statue of him who would perpetuate
sla\er}'. "
"I, too," said he, "ha\e a temple for Abraham Lincoln,
but it is in freedom's hol\' fane, - ''' not surrounded
by slave- fetters and chains, but with the s\'mbois of free-
dom — not dark w ith bondage, but radiant with the light of
libert)'. In that niche he shall stand proudl}', nobh', glori-
ously, with broken chains and slaves" whips beneath his feet.
" ^' That is a fame worth li\ing for, a\'e, more, it is a
fame worth d\ing for, though that death led through (leth-
semene and the agon\' of the accursed tree." "^'^ " '^^
"It is said," continued lie, "that W'ilberforce went up to
the judgment seat witli the broken chains of eight luindred
tliousand slaves! Let Lincoln make himself the Liberator,
28
and his name shall be enrolled, not only in this earthly
temple, but it shall be traced on the living stones of that
temple which is reared amid the thrones of Heav^en."
Lovejoy's prophecy has been fulfilled — in this world —
you see the statues to Lincoln, with broken chains at his
feet, rising all over the world, and — in that other world —
few will doubt that the prophecy has been realized.
In September, 1862, after the Confederates, by their
defeat at the great battle of Antietam, had been driven
back from Maryland and Pennsylvania, Lincoln issued the
Proclamation. It is a fact, illustrating his character, and
showing that there was in him what many would call a
tinge of superstition, that he declared to Secretary Chase
that he had made a solemn vow to God, saying, "if Gen-
eral Lee is driven back from Pennsylvania, I will crown the
result with the declaration of P^REEDOM TO THE SLAVE."
The final Proclamation was issued on the first of January,
1863. In obedience to an American custom, he had been
receiving calls on that New-Year's-day, and, for hours, shak-
ing hands. As the paper was brought to him by the Secre-
tary of State to be signed, he said, "Mr. Sewa;rd, I have been
shaking hands all day, and my right hand is almost para-
lyzed. If my name ever gets into history, it will be for this
act, and my whole soul is in it. If my hand trembles when
I sign the proclamation, those who examine the document
hereafter, will say, "he hesitated."
Then resting his arm a moment, he turned to the table,
took up the pen, and slowly and firmly wrote AbraJiani Lin-
coln. He smiled as, handing the paper to Mr. Seward, he
said, "that will do."
From this day, to its final triumph, the tide of victory
seemed to set more and more in favor of the Union cause.
The capture of Vicksburg, the victory of Gettysburg, Chat-
tanooga, Chickamauga, Lookout-Mountain, Missionary Ridge,
Sheridan's brilliant campaign in the Valley of the Shenan-
doah; Thomas' decisive victory at Nashville; Shermans
march through the Confederacy to the sea; the capture of
31
29
Fort McAllister; X.\\ii sinkiug of tJic Alnbauia ; the taking of
Mobile b\' Farragut; the occupation of Columbus, Charles-
ton, "Savannah; the evacuation of Petersburg aiul Ivich-
mond; the surrender of Lee to Grant; the taking of Jeffer-
son Davis a prisoner; the triumph everywhere of the National
Arms; such were the events which followed (though with
dela\'s and bloodshed) the "Proclamation of F^mancipation."
nil-: AMhNDMliXT TO THK CoNSTlTUTK )X.
Meanwhile Lincoln had been triumphant!}' reelected,
Congress had, as before stated, abolished slavery at the
Capital, prohibited it in all tlie territories, declared all
negro soldiers in tlie Union armies and their families free,
and had repealed all laws which sanctioned or recognized
slavery, and the President had crowned and consummated
all by the proclamation of emancipation. One thing alone
remained to perfect, confirm, and make everlastingly per-
manent these measures, and this was to embody in the Con-
stitution itself the prohibition of slavery everywhere within
the Republic.
To change the organic law, required the adoption by a
two-thirds' vote of a joint resolution b\' Congress, and that
this should be submitted to and ratified bv three-fourths of
the States.
The President, in his annual message and in personal
interviews with members of Congress, urged the passage of
such resolution. To test th(? strength of the measure, in the
House of Representatives. I had the honor, in February,
1864,. to introduce the following resolution:
"'Resolved, That the Constitution sliould be so amended
as to abolish slaver)- in the United States wherever it now
exists, and to prohibit its existence in e\'er\- part thereof
forever" (Cong, (ilobe, vol. 50, p. 659). This was adopted
by a decided vote, and was the first resolution e\'er passed
by Congress in favor of the entire abolition of slavery.
J^ut, although it received a majorit}', it did not receive a
majorit}- of two-thirds.
30
The debates on the Constitutional Amendment (perhaps
the greatest in our Congressional history, certainly the most
important since the adoption of the Constitution) ran thi'bugh
two sessions of Congress. Charles Sumner, the learned sen-
ator from Massachusetts, brought to the discussion in the
Senate his ample stores of historical illustration, quoting
largely in its favor from the historians, poets, and states-
men of the past.
The resolution was adopted in the Senate by the large
vote of ayes, 38, noes, 6.
In the lower House, at the first session, it failed to
obtain a two -third vote, and, on a motion to reconsider,
went over to the next session.
Mr. Lincoln again earnestly urged its adoption, and in
a letter to Illinois friends, he said, "The signs look better.
* ^ Peace does not look so distant as it did. I hope
it will come soon, and come to stay, and so come as to be
worth keeping in all future time."
I recall very vividly my New-Year's-call upon the Presi-
dent, January, 1864. I said:
'T hope, Mr. President, one year from today I may
have the pleasure of congratulating you on the occurrence
of three events which now seem probable."
"What are they.''" inquired he.
"I. That the rebellion may be entirely crushed.
"2. That the Constitutional Amendment, abolishing and
prohibiting slavery, may have been adopted.
"3. And that Abraham Lincoln may have been re-
elected President."
'T think," replied he, with a smile, *T would be glad to
accept the first two as a compromise."
General Grant, in a letter, remarkable for that clear
good-sense and practical judgment for which he is distin-
guished, condensed into a single sentence the political argu-
ment in favor of the Constitutional Amendment, "The North
and South," said he, "can ;iever live at peace with each other
except as one nation and tliat zvitJiotit slavcryT
31
32
(iARllLl.U S STKIXII,
I would be ^lad to quote from this great debate, but
must confine myself to a brief extract from the speecli of
the })resent President, then a member of tlie House. He
began b)' saying:
"Mr. Speaker, we shall never know \\h\' sla\er\' dies so
hard in this Republic and in this Hall, until we know why
sin outlives disaster and Satan is immortal." "' '-'^ '-
"How well do I remember. " he continued, "the history of
that distinguished predecessor of mine, Joshua R. iiiddiugs,
lateU' gone to his rest, who, w ith his forlorn hope of faith-
ful men, took his life in his hands and, in the name of Jus-
tice, protested against the great crime, and who stood
brave!}' in his place until liis white locks, like the plume of
Henry of Navarre, marked where the battle of freedom
raged fiercest." ■'" ■" "In its mad arrogance, slavery
lifted its hand against tlie Union, and since that fatal da}-,
it has been a fugitive and a \agabond upon the earth."
L'p to the last roll-call, on the question of the passage
of the resolution, we were uncertain and anxious about the
result. We needed Democratic votes. We knew we should
get some, but whether enough to carry the measure, none
could surely tell.
As the clerk called the names of members, so perfect
was the silence that the sound of a hundred pencils keeping
talh' could be heard throuc^h the Hall.
J'inalU-, when the call was completed, and the speaker
announced that the Resolution was adopted, the result was
received by an uncontrollable burst of enthusiasm. Mem-
bers and spectators (especiall)' the galleries, which were
crowded with convalescent soldiers) shouted and cheered,
and before the speaker could obtain quiet, the roar of artil-
lery on Capitol Hill proclaimed to the Cit>' of Washington
the passage of the Resolution. Congress adjourned, and we
liastened to the White House to congratulate the President
on the event.
He made one of his happiest speeches. In his own
32
peculiar words, he said, '' The great job is finisJiedr **I can
not but congratulate," said he, "all present, myself, the coun-
try, and the whole world on this great moral victory."
PERSONAL CHARACTP:RISTICS.
And now, with an attempt to sketch very briefly some
of his peculiar personal characteristics, I must close.
This great Hercules of a man had a heart as kind and
tender as a woman. Sterner men thought it a weakness. It
saddened him to see others suffer, and he shrunk from inflict-
ing pain. Let me illustrate his kindness and tenderness by
one or two incidents. One summer's day, walking along the
shaded path leading from the Executive-mansion to the
War-office, I saw the tall, awkward form of the President
seated on the grass under a tree. A wounded soldier, seek-
ing back- pay and a pension, had met the President, and
having recognized him, asked his counsel. Lincoln sat
down, examined the papers of the soldier, and told him
what to do, sent him to the proper Bureau with a note,
which secured prompt attention.
After the terribly destructive battles between Grant and
Lee in the Wilderness of Virginia, after days of dreadful
slaughter, the lines of ambulances, conveying the wounded
from the steamers on the Potomac to the great field hospi-
tals on the heights around Washington, would be continu-
ous, — one unbroken line from the wharf to the hospital.
At such a time, I have seen the President in his carriage,
driving slowly along the line, and he looked like one who
had lost the dearest members of his own family. On one
such occasion, meeting me, he stopped and said, "I can not
bear this; this suffering, this loss of life — is dreadful."
I recalled to him a line from a letter he had j^ears before
written to a friend whose great sorrow he had sought to con-
sole. Reminding him of the incident, I asked him, "Do you
remember writing to your suffering friend these words:
''And this too shall pass away,
Never fear. Victory will comer
33 33
In all his State papers and speeclies durin<; these years
of strife and passion, there can be found no words of bitter-
ness, no denunciation. When others railed, he railed not
a^ain. He was always dignified, ma«^nanimous, patient, con-
siderate, manly, and true. His duty was ever performed
"with malice toward non(\ with charity for all," and with
**firmness in the ri^ht as Ciod ij;;ives us to see the riiiht."
NEVKR A 1)EMAG()(;UE.
Lincoln was nex'cr a demagogue. He respected and
loved the people, but never flattered them. No man ever
heard him allude to his humble life and manual labor, in a
way to obtain \'otes. None knew better than he, that split-
ting rails did not qualify a man for public duties. He real-
ized painfull}' the defects of his education, and labored
diligent!}' and successfull}- to supply his deficiencies.
HIS CONVERSATION.
He had no equal as a talker in social life. His conver-
sation was fascinating and attractive. He was full of wit,
humor, and anecdote, and at the same time, original, sug-
gestive, and instructive. There was in his character a sin-
gular mingling of mirthfulness and melancholy. While his
sense of the ludicrous was keen, and his fun and mirth were
exuberent, and sometimes almost irrepressible; his conver-
sation sparkling with jest, stor}% and anecdote and in droll
description, he would pass suddenly to another mood, and
become sad and pathetic — a melancholy expression of his
homely face would show that he was "a man of sorrows and
acquainted with grief."
HIS STORIES.
The newspapers in America have alwa}'s been full of
Lincoln's stories and anecdotes, some true and man}- fabu-
lous.
He always had a stor}' ready, and if not, he could im-
provise one just fitted for the occasion. The following ma}',
I think, be said to hav^c been adapted:
•>
34
An Atlantic port, in one of the British provinces, was^
during the war, a great resort and refuge for blockade-run-
ners, and a large contraband trade was said to have been
carried on from that port with the Confederates. Late in
the summer of 1864, while the election of president was
pending, Lincoln being a candidate, the Governor-General
of that province, with some of the principal officers, visited
Washington, and called to pay their respects to the execu-
tive. Mr. Lincoln had been very much annoyed by the
failure of these officials to enforce very strictly the rules of
neutrality, but he treated his guests with great courtesy.
After a pleasant interview, the Governor, alluding to the
approaching presidential election, said, jokingly, but with a
grain of sarcasm, "I understand, Mr. President, everybody
votes in this countr}^ If we remain until November, can
we vote.^"
"You remind me," replied the President, "of a country-
man of yours, a green emigrant from Ireland. Pat arriv^ed
in New York on election-day, and was, perhaps, as eager as
Your Excellency to vote, and to vote early and late and
often. So, upon his landing at Castle Garden, he hastened
to the nearest voting place, and as he approached, the judge
who received the ballots, inquired, 'who do you want to vote
for.-^ on which side are you.^' Poor Pat was embarrassed,
he did not know who were the candidates. He stopped,
scratched his head, then, with the readiness of his country-
men, he said:
"'I am foment the Government, anyhow. Tell me, if
your Honor plases, which is the rebellion side, and I'll tell
you how I want to vote. In Ould Ireland, I was always on
the rebellion side, and, by Saint Patrick, I '11 stick to that
same in America.'
"Your Excellency," said Mr. Lincoln, "would, I should
think, not be at all at a loss on which side to vote.^"
THE BOOKS HE READ.
The two books he read most were the Bible and Shake-
,, 34
spcarc. With them lie was famihar, rcadini; aiul i[uoting'
from them constanth'. Next to Shakespeare, amon<^ the
poets, was l^urns. witli whom he had a hearty s)'mpathy,
and upon whose poetr\^ lie wrote a lecture. He was
extremely fond of ballads, and of simple, sad, and ])lain-
tive music.
I called one da\- at the White House, to introduce two
officers of the Union army, both Swedes. Immediatel}' he
began and repeated from memory, to the delight of his
\isitors, a long ballad, descriptive of Norwegian scenery, a
Norse legend, and the ad\entures of an old X'iking among
the fiords of the North.
He said he had read the poem in a newspaper, and the
\isit of these Swedes recalled it to his memory.
On the last Sunda\' of his life, as he was sailing up the
Potomac, returniuij to Washinc^ton from his \'isit to Rich-
mond, he read aloud man}- extracts from Macbeth, and
among others, the following, and with a tone and accent so
impressive that, after his death, it was \'ividly recalled by
those who heard him:
"Duncan is in his grave;
After life's fitful fever, he sleeps well;
Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison.
Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing,
Can touch him fui ther ! "
After his assassination, those friends could not fail to
recall this passage from the same play.
"This Duncan
ilatli borne his faculties so meek, hath been
.So clear in his great office, that his virtues
Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued against
The deep damnation of his taking-off. "
HIS KKI.K.ION.
It is strange that an)- reader of Lincoln's speeches and
w ritings should have had the hardihood to charge him w ith
infidelity, but the charge having been repeated!}- made, 1
reply, in the light of facts accessible to all, that no more
36
rev^erent christian (not excepting Washington) ever filled the
chair of President. Declarations of his trust in God, his
faith in the efficacy of prayer, pervade his speeches and
writings. From the time he left Springfield, to his death,
he not only himself continually prayed for Divine assistance,
but never failed to ask the prayers of others for himself and
his country.
His reply to the negroes of Baltimore, who, in 1864,
])resented him with a beautiful Bible, as an expression of
their love and gratitude, ought to have silenced all who have
made such charges. After thanking them, he said, " This
great book is the best gift God has given to man. All the
good from the Saviour of the world is communicated through
this book."
When a member of Congress, knowing his religious
character, asked him "why he did not join some church.^"
Mr. Lincoln replied, "Because I found difficulty, without
mental reservation, in giving my assent to their long and
complicated confessions of faith. When any church will
inscribe over its altar the Saviour's condensed statement of
law and gospel, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with
all thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and
thy neighbor as thyself," that church will I join with all my
heart."
WHAT HE ACCOMPLISHED.
Let us try to sum up in part what he accomplished.
When he assumed the duties of the executive, he found
an empty treasury, the National credit gone, the little
nucleus of an armv and nav\- scattered and disarmed, the
officers, who had not deserted to the rebels, strangers; the
party which elected him in a minorit}' (he having been
elected only because his opponents were divided between
Douglas, Breckenridge, and Everett), the old Democratic
party, which had ruled most of the time for half a century,
hostile, and even that part of it in the North, from long-
association, in s}'mpath}- with the insurgents; his own party
35
o /
iiuide up of discordant elements, and neither he nor his
party had acciuired prestige and the confidence of the peo-
ple. It is the exact truth to say that when he entered the
f[7//A' House he was the object of personal prejudice to a
niajoritv of the American people, and of contempt to a
powerful minorit}'. He entered upon his task of restoring
the integrity of a brc^ken Union, without sympath\- from
an)' of the great powers of Western r>urope. Those which
were not hostile, manifested a cold neutrality, exhibiting
toward him and his government no cordfal good -will, nor
extending an\' moral aid. Vet, in spite of all, he crushed
the most stupendous rebellion, supported by armies more
vast, by resources greater, and an organization more per-
fect than ever before undertook the dismemberment of a
nation. He united and held together, ai/ainst contending
factions, his o\\\\ part}', and strengthened it by securing the
confidence and winning the support of the best part of all
parties. He composed the cjuarrels of rival generals; and
at length, won the respect and confidence and sympathy of
all nations and peoples. He was reelected, almost by accla-
mation, and after a series of brilliant victories, he annihilated
all armed opposition. He led the people, step b}' step, to
emancipation, and saw his work crowned b\' an amendment
of the Constitution, eradicating and prohibiting sla\er)' for-
ever throughout the Republic.
Such is a brief and imperfect summary of his achieve-
ments during the last five years of his life. And this good
man, when the hour of victory came, made it not the hour
of vengeance, but of forgiveness and reconciliation.
These five years of incessant labor and fearful responsi-
bilit}' told even upon his strength and vigor. He left Illinois
for the Capital with a frame of iron and nerves of steel.
His old friends who had known him as a man who did not
know what illness was ; who had seen him on the prairies
before the Illinois courts, full of life, genial, and sparkling
with fun; now saw the wrinkles on his forehead deepened
into furrows — the laugh of the old days lost its heartiness;
38
anxiety, responsibility, care, and hard work wore upon him,
and his nerv^es of steel, at times, became irritable. He had
had no respite, had taken no holidays. When others fled
away from the dust and heat of the Capital, he stayed. He
would not leave the helm until all danger was past, and the
good ship of state had made her port.
1 will not dwell upon the unutterable sorrow of the
American people at his shocking death. But I desire to
express here, in this great City of this grand Empire, the
scnsibilit}' with which the people of the United States
received, at his death, the sympathy of the English-speak-
ing race.
That sympathy was most eloquently expressed by all.
It came from Windsor Castle to the White House; from
England's widowed Oueen to the stricken and distracted
widow at Washington. Erom Parliament to Congress, from
the people of all this magnificent Empire, as it stretches
round the world. Erom England to India, from Canada to
Australia, came words of deep feeling, and they were
received by the American people, in their sore bereave-
ment, as the expression of a kindred race.
I can not forbear referring in particular to the words
spoken in Parliament on that occasion by Lords Russell and
Derby, and, especially, by that great and picturesque leader,
so lately passed away. Lord J^eaconsfield. After a discrimi-
nating eulogy upon the late President, and the expression of •
profound sympathy, he said :
"Nor is it possible for the people of P^ngland, at such a
moment, to forget that he sprang from the same father-land
and spake the same mother-tongue."
God grant that, in all the unknown future, nothing may
ever disturb the friendly feeling and respect which each
nation entertains for the other. May there never be another
quarrel in the family.
36
39
I'm PKKSiDfNc. Ofkickr, at the conclusion called upon Mr.
V. G. l''i.iAN, M.A.. who, speaking of the synipatii)- which existed
between the mother-country and the great American nation, attri-
buted it in some degree to tiie influence of tin,' interchange of the
literature of the two countries, and showed that that influence,
though of a comparatively recent date, was daily becoming more
widely and deeply ifelt, and would continue to grow. He spoke
in. sympathetic terms of the admiration borne in this country for
the character and work of the lamented Lincoln, and of the in-
tense earnestness with which the operative classes in this countrx
espoused the cause of the North during the great war. Though
that earnestness was undoubtedly, in some measure, due to the sad
effects which the paralysis of the cotton industry produced in the
great manufacturing districts, he knew, from personal observation
and exi)erience during that trying time, that it was also due to the
inherent love of liberty, deep-seated in the heart of England, and
ever ready to succor the oppressed of all nations and to help those
■who were fighting for the cause of freedom.
Mr. Tiiu PAi.i.iAKDiM followed and said:
Mr. Chairman, Ladiks, and (iKNTLEMAX: — Seldom have I
listened to a paper that has so deeply interested me. It has given
us a living portrait of one of the most remarkable individualities ot
recent times — a portrait, too, traced by the hand of one who, hav-
ing himself taken a prominent i)art in the great national struggle
which put an end to slavery, had constant opportunities of seeing
and studying in every phase of his life the eminent man he has so
graphically portrayed. And though it has been said that familiarity
breeds contempt, and that there is no hero for his valet, yet men of
the Garibaldi and Lincoln type, whose influence on their country
and mankind at large is chiefly du-? to mornl force, can only gain
by a closer view of them in their prosaic every-day life. When we
see the gentler feelings of the human heart combined in a ])romi-
nent man with a rigid sense of duty and the intellectual power and
perseverance necessary l(; fulfil that dut), we not only admire that
man, but revere and love him. Hence Abraham Lincoln, the pre-
server, as Washington was the founder of the great L'nion, always,
1 must confess, stood hitiher in mv estimation and love than all the
40
Alexanders, Caesars, and Napoleons who have reddened the pages
of history with their briUiant exploits.
Before his time, I was often taunted by my French republican
friends for showing but scant enthusiasm for "La grande Repub-
lique Americaine." In answer, I pointed to the huge black spot
which, though it only covered half, yet extended its moral taint ta
the whole of the otherwise glorious Union. That could not be the
model land of Liberty where millions of our fellow-creatures were
born to slavery, to be bought and sold like swine.
But when the great deliverer arose, humble though his origin^
as is that of most deliverers, my sentiments toward America
changed. I hailed him with enthusiasm and stood almost alone
in my circle, composed chiefly of readers of the conservative and
semi-conservative press; for, to their shame and ultimate discom"
fiture, the leading papers almost all took the wrong side, prophesy-
ing continuous disasters to the anti-slavery party and a consequent
disruption of the Union. Their grand but specious argument,
which misled many honest minds, ignorant of the history of the
several States, was that the South had as much right to fight for
their liberty as the United States themselves had to fight for their
independence against England. Liberty, indeed! The liberty to
perpetuate the curse of slavery!
But Americans must not judge of British sentiments by the
conservative press, which only represents a portion of the public^
but which, unfortunately, was that which most easily found its way
across the Atlantic. The real heaft of Great Britain was from the
beginning with the North. Indeed, Lincoln's warmest sympathizers-
were those who suffered most from the direful American civil con-
test — the cotton-spinners and the whole body of the working classes.
And as nothing succeeds like success, I am bound to add that in
the process of time the undaunted determination of the Northern
States, under a series of alarming defeats, with their best trained
generals and officers, and their chief arsenals on the side of the
slave-holders, gradually gained for them and for their great inspirer^
Abraham Lincoln, the respect and admiration of all parties — and
this admiration and this respect were vastly increased when, in the
hour of victory, all cries for vengeance were hushed, and the hand
of brotherhood was held out to the defeated party by the noble-
hearted President with the full consent of his victorious country-
men.
37
And now that what was deemed impossible is an accomphshed
fact, 7'iz.: the abomination of slavery eradicated forever from the
great American Republic, and Peace and Prosperity restored
throughout the land, I trust thai, in Mr. Arnold's own words,
"nothing may ever disturb the friendly feeling and respect which
each of the great Anglo-Saxon Nations entertains for the other."
Already have . they given a striking proof of their advanced
civilization and friendly feelings, and a noble example to all other
civilized nations, in the peaceful settlement of the burning Alabama
c[uestion, which, but one generation ago, would most certainly have
led to an obstinate war, ruinous to both countries. That the deci-
sion of the neutral body of Arbitrators yas impartial and tolerably
just was proved by its giving at the lime entire satisfaction to nei-
ther party, the whole question being, however, soon after completely
dropped, leaving no angry feelings behind, as would have done a
war however successful in the end. May God grant that any future
differences between these two great nations having a common
origin, a common language, a common literature, and so many in-
stitutions in common, be settled in the same just, friendly, and
rational manner. No fratricidal war must or can ever arise between
them. All their future battles must be fought on the peaceful fields
of science, literature, and the industrial arts. Victories on these
fields will benefit both, and the whole human race into the bargain.
I will now conclude these hasty remarks by proposing a hearty
vote of thanks to the Hon. Isaac N. Arnold for his very valuable
and interesting paper.
^Vhich was unanimously adopted.
42
NOTE FROM THE RIGHT HON. JOHN BRIGHT:
No. 132 Piccadilly, London,
Jime 28th, '81.
Dear Sir:
T have read with much pleasure your interesting paper on
President Lincoln. I wish all men could read it, for the Hfe of
your great President affords much that tends to advance all that
is good and noble among men. I thank you for sending me the
report of your paper.
i^am, very sincerely yours,
John Bright.
Hon. Isaac N. Arnold.
LP:TTER from MRS. ANNE C. BOTTA:
Buckingham Palace Hotel,
yiiue 22d^ 188 I.
My Dear Mr. Arnold:
An hour ago I opened the pamphlet you gave me yesterday,
intending to glance at the contents and lay it aside to read when I
reached home, but I found myself unable to lay it down mitil I had
carefully read every word from first to last. It is certainly the most
clear, exhaustive, and eloquent tribute to Mr. Lincoln that I have
ever seen. But the pleasure it has given me is quite equalled by
the pride I feel in knowing that it was listened to by the London
Historical Society, to whom it must have been as novel as interest-
ing. As a good American, I thank you cordially for thus giving to
the English people so noble a picture of our great President, while
at the same time, you presented to them in person his able friend
and coadjutor.
Very truly yours,
Anne C. Botta.
43 38
'Hie following account of the meeting is taken from a letter of
MoNCURK I). C(iNWAY, to the Cincinnati Commercial :
London, June 18, 1881.
On Thursday evening, an unusually large comi)any of ladies
and gentlemen gathered in the rooms of tlic Royal Historical
Society to listen to a pa])er on Abraham i-incoln, by Hon. Isaar
N. Arnold, President of the Chicago Historical Society, autlior also
of the "Life of Benedict Arnold, " who was in no sense his ances-
tor. * *
Mr. Arnold, who was accompanied by Mr. Mathews (author of
"(letting on in Life") and Mrs. Mathews, was a remarkable figure
among the blonde and ruddy Knglish people around him, and who
greeted him with great cordiality. He is a tall, lithe, sinewy sort of
man, with a brownish complexion, a fine forehead, a (juick, penetrat-
ing eye, and a face whose many lines are not the marks of age or
care, but the inscriptions of experience. It was grateful to sec such
a typical western man, so self-poised and dignified, so related to his
American habitat, and yet so human in his sympathies, come to tell
the Entflish about our martvr President. As he went on, I felt that
the dreary disquisition [referring to a i)aper which had been read
previously] which we liad been enduring, now added to the pictu-
resqueness of the situation. It was as if, while we were fumbling
in the Valley of Dry Bones, })icking up now Saladin's skull, next
Urban's thigh-bone, suddenly our eyes were caught by the eye and
front of a man worth many Saladin.s, and a Crusader saving races
instead of destroying them. It is not often that the Royal Histori-
cal Society has an opportunity of considering history in the making,
but the satisfaction with which it a\ailed itself of that given it on
Thursday, may have the result of multiplying such opportunities.
After a graceful recognition of the debt .Americans owe to their
British ancestors, a debt repaid in giving to the Knglish-speaking
world Washington and Lincoln. Mr. Arnold stated modestly his long
ac(}uaintance with the man of whom he was speaking. He knew
him, somewhat intimately, in i)rivate and public life for more than
twenty years. He gave a grai)hic account of the shooting of Lin-
coln's grandtather by an Indian; Mordecai's shooting the Lidian
through a loop-hole of their cabin, as he (the Indian) was carrying
off his younger brother 'i'homas, who lived to become father of the
President. A good ])icture in frontier life was drawn in few words,
and the figure of young Abraham, "his head protected from the
cold by a cap made of the skin of the coon, fox, or i)rairie-wolf,"
and with the "buckskin breeches and hunting-shirt of the pioneer."
"He grew up to be a man of majestic stature and herculean strength.
Had he appeared in England or Normandy some centuries ago, he
would have been the founder of some I'aronial family, ])ossil)le of a
44
Royal dynasty. He could have wielded with ease the two-handed
sword of Guy, or the battle-ax of Richard of the I,ion-heart."' The
kindliness and fine feeling of this man, so roughly nurtured, were
brought out with art by Mr. Arnold, and all present were impressed
by the pathos of the scene when Lincoln was leaving his neighbors
to assume the hard duties of his Presidency. * * "* He
told some touching incidents in the life of Lincoln at Washing-
ton, and gave an excellent account of his personal characteristics.
Among other things he related that when a member of Congress
asked him why he did not join some church, Lincoln replied: "Be-
cause I found difficulty, without mental reservation, in giving my
consent to the long and complicated confessions of faith. When
any church will inscribe over its altar the Saviour's condensed state-
ment of law and gospel, 'Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all
thy heart, with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and thy neighbor
as thyself,' that church will T join with all my heart." [The substi-
tution of "gospel'' for Christ's word, "prophets," in this story is an
indication of how new versions are made by other than royal com-
missions.] This anecdote, like several other things in Mr. Arnold's
essay, was warmly applauded. The reader showed a good deal of
feeling when he described Lincoln near the close of his career.
"He left Illinois for the Capital, with a frame of iron and nerves of
steel. His old friends who had known him as a man who did not
know what illness was, who had seen him on the prairies before the
Illinois courts, full of life, genial, and sparkling with fun, now saw
wrinkles on his forehead deepened into furrows — the laugh of the
old days lost its heartiness; anxiety, responsibility, care, and hard
work wore upon him, and his nerves of steel at times became irri-
table. He had no respite, had taken no holidays. When others
fled away from the dust and heat of the Capital, he stayed. He
would not leave the helm until all danger was past, and the good
ship of state had made her port.'"
When, in conclusion, Mr. Arnold spoke with earnestness of the
sympathy which came from the English-speaking race at Lincoln's
death, and of the sympathy which "came from Windsor Castle to
the AVhite House," it is probable that his words carried suggestions
which he had not thought of '^ * *
39
4.^
- NOTE FROM ROHl-RT T. LINCOLN:
War Di:rARTMENT, Washington,
Aug. 20, 1 88 1.
Mv Dkar Mr. Arnold:
Please accept my thanks for the cop\' of }'our
address before the Royal Historical Societ)-, which I have
read carefully and with the greatest pleasure.
I tell vou sincerch' that 1 ha\'e never seen an\'thin""
of the character so gratif\'ing to myself and so complete.
General R. S. Drum, our adjutant - general, has also read
your lecture. He is a very warm friend of my father, and
is very anxious to have a copy for preservation.
I will be very much obliged if \'ou can send one,
either directly to him or to me for him, as I wish to keep
the copy I now have for myself
Very sincerely yours,
Robert T. Lincoln.
Hon. 1. N. .\rnoli),
Chicago.
40
'\
4
41
A
^^^^
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
Read before The Royal Historical Society,
London, June 16111, 1881.
BY
Hon. ISAAC N. ARNOLD, F.R.H.S.
i/
STEPHEN A. DOLGLAS:
AN EULOGY
Delivered before The Chicago University,
July 31), 1861.
BY
Hon. JAMES W. SHEAHAN.
CHICAGO:
FERGU.S PRINTING COMPANY,
1 881.
43
ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
Bv HON. ISAAC N. ARNOLD.
A Paper read before the Royal Historical Society, London, June 16, 1881.
Thk noblest inheritance we, Americans, derive from
our British ancestors is the memory and example of the
great and good men who adorn }'our history. They are
as much appreciated and honored on our side of the
Atlantic as on this. In giving to the English-speaking
world Washington and Lincoln we think we repa\', in
large part, our obligation. Their preeminence in Ameri-
can histor\' is recognized, and the republic, which the one
founded and the other preserved, has, alread)', crowned
theni as models for her children.
In the annals of almost every great nation some names
appear standing out clear and prominent, names of those
who have influenced, or controlled, the great events which
make up history. Such were Wallace and Bruce, in Scot-
land. Alfred and the Edwards, William the Conqueror.
Cromwell, Pitt, Nelson, and Wellington, in England, and
such in a still greater degree were Washington and Lincoln.
I am here, from near his home, with the hope that I
may, to some extent, aid \'ou in forming a just and true
estimate of Abraham Lincoln. I knew him, somewhat
intimately, in private and public life for more than twent\'
years. \\'e practised law at the same bar, and, during
his administration, I was a member of Congress, seeing
him and conferring with him often, and, therefore, I ma\'
hope without vanit>', I trust that I shall be able to con-
tribute something of \'alue in enabling you to judge of
him. We in America, as well as \'ou in the old world,
believe that "blood will tell;" that it is a great blessing
to have had an honorable and worth)' ancestry. We
12
1 66 EARLY ILLINOIS.
believ^e that moral principle, physical and intellectual
vigor in the forefathers are qualities likely to be mani-
fested in the descendants. Fools are not the fathers or
mothers of great men. I claim for Lincoln, humble as
was the station to which he was born, and rude and
rough as were his early surroundings, that he had such
ancestors. I mean that his father and mother, his grand-
father and grandmother, and still further back, however
humble and rugged their condition, were physically and
mentally strong, vigorous men and women; hardy and
successful pioneers on the frontier of American civilization.
They were among the early settlers in Virginia, Kentucky,
and Illinois, and knew how to take care of themselves in
the midst of difficulties and perils; how to live and suc-
ceed when the weak would perish. These ancestors of
Lincoln, for several generations, kept on the very crest
of the wave of Western settlements — on the frontier,
where the struggle for life was hard and the strong alone
survived.
His grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, and his father,
Thomas, were born in Rockingham County, Virginia.
About 1 78 1, while his father was still a lad, his grand-
father's family emigrated to Kentuck}% and was a contem-
porary with Daniel Boone, the celebrated Indian fighter
and early hero of that State. This, a then wild and
wooded territory, was the scene of those fierce and des-
perate conflicts between the settlers and the Indians
which gave it the name of "The dark and bloody ground."
When Thomas Lincoln, the father of the President, was
six years old, his father (Abraham, the grandfather of
the President) was shot and instantl}* killed by an Indian.
The boy and his father were at work in the corn-field,
near their log-cabin home. ]\Iordecai, the elder brother of
the lad, at work not far away, witnessed the attack. He
saw his father fall, and ran to the cabin, seized his ready-
loaded rifle and springing to the loop-hole cut through
the logs, he saw the Indian, who had seized the boy,
carrying him away. Raising his rifle and aiming at a
silver medal, conspicuous on the breast of the Indian, he
instantly fired. The Indian fell, and the lad, springing
to his feet, ran to the open arms of his mother, at the
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 167
cabin door. Amidst such scenes, the Lincohi faniil\- natu-
ralK' produced rude, rough, liardy, and fearless men,
famihar witli wood -craft ; men wlio could meet the
extremes of exposure and fatigue, who knew how to find
food and shelter in the forest; men of great powers of
endurance — brave and self-reliant, true and faithful to
their friends and dangerous to their enemies. Men with
minds to conceive and hands to execute bold enterprises.
It is a curious fact that the grandfather, Abraham
Lincoln, is noted on the surveys of Daniel Hoone as hav-
ing purchased, of the Government, fi\'e hundred acres of
land. Thomas Lincoln, the' father, was also the purchaser
of government land, and President Lincoln left, as a part
of his estate, a quarter- section (one hundred and sixty
acres), which he had received from the United States, for
services rendered in earl)' life as a volunteer soldier, in the
Black- Hawk Indian war. Thus for three generations the
Lincoln famil)' were land-owners directly from the Gov-
ernment.
Such was the lineage and famil\' from which President
Lincoln sprung. Such was the enx'ironmcnt in which his
character was developed.
He was born in a log-cabin, in Kentuck}-, on the 12th
of February, 1809.
It will aid you in picturing to }'ourself this young man
and his surroundings, to know that, from boyhood to the
age of twenty-one, in winter his head was protected from
the cold by a cap made of the skin of the coon, fox, or
prairie-wolf, and that he often wore the buckskin breeches
and hunting-shirt of the pioneer.
He grew up to be a man of majestic stature and Her-
culean strength. Had he appeared in England or Nor-
mandy, some centuries ago, he would have been the
founder of some great Baronial famil\', possibly of a
Royal dynasty. He could have wielded, with ease, the
two-handed sword of Gu\', the great I^arl of Warwick, or
the battle-axe of Richard of the Lion-heart.
HIS EDUCATION AND TRAINING.
The world is naturall)' interested in knowing what was
the education and training which fitted Lincoln for the
-A-
l68 EARLY ILLINOIS.
great work which he accompHshed. On the extreme
frontier, the means of book-learning was very hmited.
The common free schools, which now closely follow the
heels of the pioneer and organized civil government, and
prevail all over the United States, had not then reached
the Far -West. An itinerant school-teacher wandered
occasionally into a settlement, opened a private school
for a few months, and, at such, Lincoln attended at differ-
ent times in all about twelve months. His mother, who
was a woman of practical good sense, of strong physical
organization, of deep religious feeling, gentle and self-
reliant, taught him to read and write.
Although she died when he was only nine years old,
she had already laid deep the foundations of his excel-
lence. Perfect truthfulness and integrity, love of justice,
self-control, reverence for God, these constituted the solid
basis of his character. These were all implanted and
carefully cultivated by his mother, and he always spoke
of her with the deepest respect and the most tender affec-
tion. " All that 1 am, or hope to be," said he, when
President, *T owe to my sainted mother."
He early manifested the most eager desire to learn, but
there were no libraries, and few books in the back settle-
ments in which he lived. Among the stray volumes,
which he found in the possession of the illiterate families
by which he was surrounded, were yEsop's Fables, Bun-
yan's Pilgrim's Progress, a life of Washington, the poems
of Burns, and the Bible. To these his reading was con-
fined, and he read them over and over again, until they
became as familiar almost as the alphabet. His memory
was marv^ellous, and I never yet met the man more
familiar with the Bible than Abraham Lincoln. This
was apparent in after-life, both from his conversation and
writings, scarcely a speech or state paper of his in which
illustrations and allusions from the Bible can not be found.
While a young man, he made for himself, of coarse
paper, a scrap-book, into which he copied everything
which particularly pleased him. He found an old English
grammar, which he studied by himself; and he formed,
from his constant study of the Bible, that simple, plain,
clear Anglo-Saxon style, so effective with the people. He
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 1 69
illustrated the maxim that it is better to know thoroughly
a few good books than to skim over man}'. When fifteen
years old, he began (with a view of improving himself) to
write on various subjects and to practise in making politi-
cal and other speeches. These he made so amusing and
attractive that his father had to forbid his making them
in working-hours, for, said he, "when Abe begins to speak,
all the hands flock to hear him." His memory was so
retentive that he could repeat, verbatim, the sermons and
political speeches which he heard.
While his days were spent in hard manual labor, and
his evenings in study, he grew up strong in body, health-
ful in mind, with no bad habits; no stain of intemperance,
profanity, or vice of any kind. He used neither tobacco
nor intoxicating drinks, and, thus living, he grew to be
six feet four inches high, and a giant in strength. In all
athletic sports he had no equal. I have heard an old
comrade say, "he could strike the hardest blow with the
woodman's axe, and the maul of the rail-splitter, jump
higher, run faster than any of his fellows, and there were
none, far or near, who could lay him on his back." Kind
and cordial, he early developed so much wit and humor,
such a capacity for narrative and story-telling, that he was
everywhere a most welcome guest.
A LAND SURVEYOR.
Like Washington, he became, in early life, a good prac-
tical surveyor, and I have, in my library, the identical
book from which, at eighteen years of age, he studied the
art of surveying. By his skill and accuracy, and b\' the
neatness of his work, he was sought after by the settlers,
to survey and fix the boundaries of their farms, and in
this way, in part, he earned a support while he studied
law. In 1837, self-taught, he was admitted and licensed,
by the Supreme Court of Illinois, to practise law.
A LAWYER.
It is difficult for me to describe, and, perhaps, more
difficult for you to conceive the contrast when Lincoln
began to practise law, between the forms of the adminis-
tration of justice in Westminster Hall, and in the rude
-^
170 EARLY ILLINOIS.
log court-houses of Illinois. I recall to-day what was said
a few years ago by an Illinois friend, when we visited, for
the first time, Westminster Abbe)', and as we passed into
Westminster Hall. *' This," he exclaimed, " this is the
grandest forum in the world. Here Fox, Burke, and
Sheridan hurled their denunciations against Warren Hast-
ings. Here Brougham defended Queen Caroline. And
this," he went on to repeat, in the words of Macauley,
(words as familiar in America as here), "This is the great
hall of William Rufus, tlie hall which has resounded with
acclamations at the inauguration of thirty kings, and
which has witnessed the trials of Bacon and Somers and
Strafford and Charles the First." "And yet," I replied,
*T have seen justice administered on the prairies of Illi-
nois without pomp or ceremony, everything simple to
rudeness, and yet, when Lincoln and Douglas led at that
bar, I have seen justice administered by judges as pure,
aided by advocates as eloquent, if not as learned, as any
who ever presided, or plead, in Westminster Hall."
The common-law of England (said to be the perfection
of human wisdom) was administered in both forums, and
the decisions of each tribunal were cited as authority in
the other; both illustrating that reverence for, and obedi-
ence to, law, which is the glor}' of the English-speaking
race.
Lincoln was a great lawyer. He sought to convince
rather by the application of principle than by the citation
of authorities. On the whole, he was stronger with the
jury than with the court. I do not know that there has
ever been, in America, a greater or more successful advo-
cate before a jury, on the right side, than Abraham
Lincoln. He had a marvellous power of conciliating and
impressing everyone in his favor. A stranger entering the
court, ignorant of the case, and listening a few moments
to Lincoln, would find himself involuntarily on his side
and wishing him success. He was a quick and accurate
reader of character, and seemed to comprehend, almost
intuitiv^el}-, the peculiarities of those with whom he came
in contact. His manner was so candid, his methods so
direct, so fair, he seemed so anxious that truth and
justice should prevail, that everyone wished him success.
ABRAHAxM LINCOLN. IJl
He excelled in the statement of his case. However com-
plicated, he would disentangle it, and present the import-
ant and turninj^- point in a way so clear that all could
understand. Indeed, his statement often alone won his
cause, rendering argument unnecessary. The judges
would often stop him b)' saying, "If that is the case,
brother Lincoln, we will hear the other side."
His ability in examining a witness, in bringing out
clearly the important facts, was only surpassed b}' his
skilful cross-examinations. He could often compel a wit-
ness to tell the truth, where he meant to lie. He could
make a jur\' laugh, and generalh' weep, at his pleasure.
On the right side, and when fraud or injustice were to be
exposed, or innocence vindicated, he rose to the highest
range of eloquence, and was irresistable. But he must
have faith in his cause to bring out his full strength. His
wit and humor, his quaint and homely illustrations, his
inexhaustible stores of anecdote, alwa}'s to the point,
added greatl}' to his power as a jur)'-advocate.
He never misstated e\'idence or misrepresented his
opponent's case, but met it fairly and squarely.
He remained in active practice until his nomination,
in Ma}-, iS6o, for the presidency. He was employed in
the leading cases in both the federal and state courts, and
had a large clientelage, not only in Illinois, but was fre-
quentU' called, on special retainers, to other States.
AN ILLINOLS POLITICL\N.
B)' his eloquence and popularit)* he became, earh' in
life, the leader of the old \\ hig party, in Illinois. He
served as member of the State Legislature, was the can-
date of his party for speaker, presidential elector, and
United States senator, and was a member of the lower
house of Congress.
SLAVERY.
When the independence of the American republic was
established, African slaver}' was tolerated as a local and
temporary institution. It was in conthct with the moral
sense, the religious convictions of the people, and the
political principles on which the government was founded.
But having been tolerated, it soon became an organized,
1/2 EARLY ILLINOIS.
aggressive power, and, later, it became the master of the
government. Conscious of its inherent weakness, it
demanded and obtained additional territory for its expan-
sion. First, the great Louisiana territory was purchased,,
then Florida, and then Texas.
By the repeal, in 1854, of the prohibition of slavery
north of the line of 36°, 30' of latitude (known in America
as the "Missouri Compromise"), the slavery question
became the leading one in American politics, and the
absorbing and exciting topic of discussion. It shattered
into fragments the old conservative Whig party, with
which Mr. Lincoln had, theretofore, acted. It divided
the Democratic party, and new parties were organized
upon issues growing directly out of the question of slavery.
The leader of that portion of the Democratic party
which continued, for a time, to act with the slavery party,
was Stephen Arnold Douglas, then representing Illinois
in the United States Senate. He was a bold, ambitious,
able man, and had, thus far, been uniformly successful.
He had introduced and carried through Congress, against
the most vehement opposition, the repeal of the law, pro-
hibiting slavery, called the Missouri Compromise.
THE CONTEST BETWEEN FREEDOM AND SLAVERY IN
THE TERRITORIES.
The issue having been now distinctly made between
freedom and the extension of slavery into the territories,
Lincoln and Douglas, the leaders of the Free-soil and
Democratic parties, became more than ever antagonized.
The conflict between freedom and slavery now became
earnest, fierce, and violent, beyond all previous political
controversies, and from this time on, Lincoln plead the
cause of liberty with an energy, ability, and eloquence,,
which rapidly gained for him a national reputation.
From this time on, through the tremendous struggle, it
.was he who grasped the helm and led his party to victory.
Conscious of a great cause, inspired by a generous love of
liberty, and animated by the moral sublimity of his great
theme, he proclaimed his determination, ever thereafter,,
"to speak for freedom, and against slavery, until every-
where the sun shall shine, the rain shall fall, and the wind
ABRAHAM LINCOLN'. 1 73
blow upon no man who goes forth to unrequited toil."
THE LINCOLN AND DOUGLAS DERATE.
The i^reat debate between Lincohi and Doughis, in
1858, was, unquestionably, botli with reference to the
abiht)' of the speakers and its influence upon opinion and
events, the most important in American history. I do
not think I do injustice to others, nor over-estimate their
importance, when I say that the speeches of Lincohi pub-
hshed, circuLated, and read, throughout the Free-States,
did more than an}- other agency in creating the pubhc
opinion, which prepared the way for the overthrow of
slavery. The speeches of John Ouincy Adams, and those
of Senator Sumner, were more learned and scholarly,
and those of Lovejoy and Wendel Philips were more
vehement and impassioned; Senators Seward, Chase, and
Hale spoke from a more conspicuous forum, but Lincoln's
speeches were as philosophic, as able, as earnest as any,
and his manner had a simplicity and directness, a clear-
ness of illustration, and his language a plainness, a vigor,
an Anglo-Saxon strength, better adapted, than any other,
to reach and influence the understanding and sentiment
of the common people.
At the time of this memorable discussion, both Lincoln
and Douglas were in the full maturity of their powers.
Douglas being forty-five and Lincoln forty-nine years old.
Douglas had had a long training and experience as a
popular speaker. On the hustings (stump, as we say in
America) and in Congress, and- especially in the United
States Senate, he had been accustomed to meet the ablest
debaters of his State and of the Nation.
His friends insisted that never, either in conflict with a
single opponent, or when repelling the assaults of a whole
party, had he been discomfited. His manner was bold,
vigorous, and aggressive. He was ready, fertile in
resources, familiar with political history, strong and severe
in denunciation, and he handled, with skill, all the
weapons of the dialectician. His iron will, tireless energy,
united with physical and moral courage, and great per-
sonal magnetism, made him a natural leader, and gave
him personal popularity.
-^
174 EARLY ILLINOIS.
Lincoln was also now a thoroughly trained speaker.
He had contended successfully at the bar, in the legisla-
ture, and before the people, with the ablest men of the
West, including Douglas, with whom he always rather
sought than avoided a discussion. But he was a courte-
ous and generous opponent, as is illustrated by the follow-
ing beautiful allusion to his rival, made in 1856, in one of
their joint debates. "Twenty years ago. Judge Douglas
and I first became acquainted ; we were both young then ;
he a trifle younger than I. Even then, we were both am-
bitious, I, perhaps, quite as much as he. With me, the
race of ambition has been a flat failure. With him, it has
been a splendid success. His name fills the Nation, and
it is not unknown in foreign lands. I affect no con-
tempt for the high eminence he has reached; so reached,
that the oppressed of my species might have shared with
me in the elevation, I would rather stand on that emi-
nence than wear the richest crown that ever pressed a
monarch's brow."
We know, and the world knows, that Lincoln did reach
that high, nay, far higher eminence, and that he did reach
it in such a way that the "oppressed" did share with him
in the elevation.
Such were the champions who, in 1858, were to discuss,
before the voters of Illinois, and with the whole Nation as
spectators, the political questions then pending, and espec-
ially the vital questions relating to slavery. It was not a
single combat, but extended through a whole campaign.
On the return of Douglas, from Washington, to Illinois,
in July, 1858, Lincoln and Douglas being candidates for
the senate, the former challenged his rival to a series of
joint debates, to be held at the principal towns in the
State. The challenge was accepted, and it was agreed
that each discussion should occupy three hours, that the
speakers should alternate in the opening and the close —
the opening speech to occupy one hour, the reply one
hour and a-half, and the close half an hour. The meet-
ings were held in the open air, for no hall could hold the
vast crowds which attended.
In addition to the immense mass of hearers, reporters,
from all the principal newspapers in the country, attended,
ABRAHAM LIXCQLX. 1 75
SO that the morning after each debate, the speeches were
pubhshed, and eagerl}- read b)- a large part, perhaps a
majority of all the voters of the United States.
The attention of the American people was thus arrested,
and the}' watched with intense interest, and devoured
every argument of the champions.
Each of these great men, I doubt not, at that time,
sincerely believed he was right. Douglas' ardor, while in
such a conflict, would make him think, for the time being,
he was right, and I kmnv that Lincoln argued for freedom
against the extension of sla\'er}' with the most profound
conviction that on the result hung the fate of his country.
Lincoln had two adxantages over Douglas; he had the
best side of the question, and the best temper. He was
always good-humored, always had an apt stor)- iox illus-
tration, while Douglas sometimes, when hard pressed, was
irritable.
Douglas carried awa}- the most popular applause, but
Lincoln made the deeper and more lasting impression.
Douglas did not disdain an immediate ad captandtuu
triumph, while Lincoln aimed at permanent conviction.
Sometimes, when Lincoln's friends urged him to raise a
storm of applause (which he could always do by his happy
illustrations and amusing stories), he refused, saying the
occasion was too serious, the issue too grave. *T do not
seek applause," said he, "nor to amuse the people, I want
to convince them."
It was often observed, during this canvass, that while
Douglas was sometimes greeted with the loudest cheers,
when Lincoln closed, the people seemed solemn and seri-
ous, and could be heard, all through the crowd, gravel)'
and anxiously discussing the topics on which he had been
speaking.
Douglas secured the immediate object of the struggle,
but the manl}' bearing, the vigorous logic, the honest)' and
sincerit)', the great intellectual powers, exhibited b)- Mr.
Lincoln, prepared the wa)', and, two years later, secured
his nomination and election to the presidency. It is a
touching incident, illustrating the patriotism of both these
statesmen, that, widel)- as tlic)' differed, and keen as hai.1
been their rivalr)', just as soon as the life of the Republic
176 EARLY ILLINOIS.
was menaced, by treason, they joined hands, to shield and
save the county they loved.
The echo and the prophecy of this great debate was
heard, and inspired hope in the far-off cotton and rice-
fields of the South The toiling blacks, to use the words
of Whittier, began hopefully to pray:
" We pray de Lord. He gib us signs
Dat some day we be free.
De Norf wind tell it to de pines,
De wild duck to de sea.
" We tink it when de church-bell ring,
We dream it in de dream,
De rice-bird mean it when he sing,
De eagle when he scream. "
THE COOPER-INSTITUTE SPEECH.
In February, i860, Mr. Lincoln was called to address
the people of New York, and, speaking to a vast audience,
at the Cooper Institute (the Exeter Hall of the United
States), the poet Bryant presiding, he made, perhaps, the
most learned, logical, and exhaustive speech to be found
in American anti-slavery literature. The question was,
the power of the National Government to exclude slavery
from the territories. The orator from the prairies, the
morning after this speech, awoke to find himself famous.
He closed with these words, "Let us have faith that
right makes might, and in that faith let us, to the end,
do our duty as we understand it."
This address was the carefully finished product of, not
an orator and statesman only, but also of an accurate
student of American history. It confirmed and elevated
the reputation he had already acquired in the Douglas
debates, and caused his nomination and election to the
presidency.
If time permitted, I would like to follow Mr. Lincoln,
step by step, to enumerate his measures one after another,,
until, by prudence and courage, and matchless states-
manship, he led the loyal people of the republic to the
final and complete overthrow of slavery and the restora-
tion of the Union.
From the time he left his humble home, in Illinois, to
assume the responsibilities of power, the political horizon
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 1/7
black with treason and rebellion, the terrific thunder
clouds, — the tempest which had been ijatherini; and j^row-
ini^ more black and threatening for years, now ready to
explode, — on and on, throui^h lon;^ years of bloody war,
down to his final triumph and death — what a drama!
His eventful life terminated b}' his tragic death, has it not
the dramatic unities, and the awful ending, of the Old
Greek tragedy?
TTIS FAREWELL TO HIS NEIGHBORS.
I know of nothing, in history, more pathetic than the
scene when he bade good-bye to his old friends and
neighbors. Conscious of the difficulties and dangers
before him, difficulties which seemed almost insurmount-
able, with a sadness as though a presentiment that he
should return no more was pressing upon him, but with
a deep religious trust which was characteristic, on the
platform of the rail-carriage, which was to bear him away
to the Capital, he pauseci and said, "No one can realize
the sadness I feel at this parting. Here I hav^e lived more
than a quarter of a centur}-. Here m\' children were born,
and here one of them lies buried. I know not how soon I
shall see you again. I go to assume a task more difficult
than that which has devolved upon any other man since
the days of Washington. He never would have suc-
ceeded but for the aid of Divine Providence, upon which,
at all times, he relied. * " '" I hope you, my
dear friends, will all pra\' that I ma\' receive that Divine
assistance, without which I can not succeed, but with
which, success is certain."
And as he waved his hand in farewell to the old home,
to which he was never to return, he heard the response
from many old friends, "God bless and keep you." "God
protect you from all traitors." His neighbors "sorrowing
most of all," for the fear "that they should see his face no
more."
HIS INAL'CiL'RAL AND AI'l'LAL FOR PEACE.
In his inaugural address, spoken in the open air, and
from the eastern portico of the capitol, and heard by
thrice ten thousand people, on the ver}^ verge of ci\il war,
178 EARLY ILLINOIS
he made a most earnest appeal for peace. He gave the
most solemn assurance, that "the property, peace, and
security of no portion of the Repubhc should be endan-
gered by his administration." But he declared, with firm-
ness that the union of the States must be "perpetual,"
and that he should "execute the laws faithfully in every
state." "In doing this," said he, "there need be no blood-
shed nor violence, nor shall there be, unless forced upon the
National Authority." In regard to the difficulties which
thus divided the people, he appealed to all to abstain
from precipitate action, assuring them that intelligence,
patriotism, and a firm reliance on Him, who has never yet
forsaken the Republic, "were competent to adjust, in the
best way, all existing troubles."
His closing appeal, against civil war, was most touch-
ing. "In your hands," said he, and his voice, for the first
time faltered, "In your hands, and not in mine, are the
momentous issues of civil war." ^ " "You can
have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors."
'^ ^ "I am," continued he, "loth to close, we are
not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies,
though passion may strain, — it must not break the bonds
of affection."
The answer to these appeals was the attack upon Fort
Sumpter, and immediately broke loose all the maddening
passions which riot in blood and carnage and civil war.
I know not how I can better picture and illustrate the
condition of affairs, and of public feeling, at that time,
than bv narrating; two or three incidents.
DOUGLAS' PROPHECY, JANUARY I, 1861.
In January, 1861, Senator Douglas, then lately a candi-
date for the presidency, with Mrs. Douglas, one of the
most beautiful and fascinating women in America, a rela-
tive of Mrs. Madison, occupied, at Washington, one of the
most magnificent blocks of dwellings, called the "Minne-
sota Block." On New-Year's-day, 1861, General Charles
Stewart, of New York, from whose lips I write an account
of the incident, says,
"I was making a New-Year's-call on Senator Douglas;
after some conversation, I asked him,
A13KAHAM LIN'COLN. 1 79
" 'What will be the result, Senator, of the efforts of
Jefferson Davis, and his associates, to divide the Union?'
We were," said Stewart, "sitting on the sofa together,
when I asked the question. Douglas rose, walked rapidly
up and down the room for a moment, and then pausing,
he exclaimed, with deep feeling and excitement:
"'The Cotton States are making an effort to draw in
the Border States, to their schemes of Secession, and I
am but too fearful they will succeed. If they do, there
Will be the most fearful civil war the world has ever seen,
lasting for years.'
"Pausing a moment, he looked like one inspired, while
he proceeded: 'X'irginia, over yonder, across the Potomac,'
pointing toward Arlington, 'will become a charnel-house
— but in the end the Union will triumph. They will tr}','
he continued, 'to get possession of this Capital, to give
them prestige abroad, but in that effort the}- will never
succeed; the North will rise eii masse to defend it. But
Washington will become a city of hospitals, the churches
will be used for the sick and wounded. This house,' he
continued, 'the Minnesota Block will be devoted to that
purpose before the end of the war.'
"Every word he said was literally fulfilled — all the
churches nearly were used for the wounded, and the Min-
nesota IMock, and the very room in which .this, declaration
was made, became the 'Douglas Hospital.'
"'What justification for all this.^' said Stewart.
" 'There is no justification,' replied Douglas.
"'I will go as far as the constitution will permit to
maintain their just rights, l^ut,' said he, rising upon his
feet and raising his arm, 'if the Southern States attempt
to secede, I am in favor of their having just so many
slaves, and just so much slave territory, as they can hold
at the point of the bayonet, and no more.' "
WILL THE NORTH FKHIT .^
Many Southern leaders believed there would be no seri-
ous war, and labored industriously to impress this idea on
the Southern people.
Benjamin F. l^utler, who, as a delegate from Massachu-
setts, to the Charlestown Convention, had voted many
l80 , EARLY ILLINOIS.
times for Breckenridge, the extreme Southern candidate
for president, came to Washington, in the winter of 1 860-1,
to inquire of his old associates what they meant by their
threats.
*'We mean," rephed they, "we mean Separation — a
Southern Confederacy. We will have our independence,
a Southern government — with no discordant elements."
''Are you prepared for war.'" said Butler, coolly.
"Oh, there will be no war; the North won't fight."
"The North zci// fight," said Butler, "the North will
send the /ast man and expend the last dollar to maintain
the Government."
"But," replied Butler's Southern friends, "the North
can't fight — we have too many allies there."
"You have friends," responded Butler, "in the North,
who will stand by you so long as you fight your battles
in the Union, but the moment you fire on the flag, the
North will be a unit against you." "And," Butler con-
tinued, "you may be assured if war comes, slavery oidsT
THE SPECIAL SESSION OF CONGRESS, JULY, 1 86 1.
On the brink of this civil war, the President summoned
Congress to meet on the 4th of July, 1861, the anniver-
sary of our Independence. Seven States had already
seceded, were in open revolt, and the chairs of their repre-
sentatives, in both houses of Congress, were vacant. It
needed but a glance at these so numerous vacant seats to
realize the extent of the defection, the gravity of the situ-
ation, and the magnitude of the impending struggle.
The old pro-slaver\* leaders were absent. Some in the
rebel government, set up at Richmond, and others mar-
shalling troops in the field. Hostile armies were gather-
ing, and from the dome of the Capitol, across the Poto-
mac, and on toward Fairfax, in Virginia, could be seen
the Confederate flag.
Breckenridge, late the Southern candidate for president,
now Senator from Kentucky, and soon to lead a rebel
army, still lingered in the Senate. Like Cataline among
the Roman Senators, he was regarded with aversion and
distrust. Gloomy and, perhaps, sorrowful, he said, "I can
51
ABRAIIAxM LINCOLN. l8l
only look with sadness on the melancholy drama that is
being enacted."
Pardon the digression, while I relate an incident which
occurred in the Senate, at this special session.
Senator Baker, of Oregon, was making a brilliant and
impassioned reply to a speech of Ikeckenridge, in which
he denounced the Kentucky senator, for giving aid and
encouragement to the enemy, by his speeches. At length
he paused, and, turning toward I^reckenridgc, and fixing his
eye upon him, he asked, "What would have been thought
if, after the battle of Cannai, a Roman senator had risen,
amidst the conscript Fathers, and denounced the war, and
opposed all measures for its success."
Baker paused, and every eye in the Senate, and in the
crowded galleries was fixed upon the almost solitary sena-
tor from Kentucky. Fessenden broke the painful silence,
by exclaiming, in low deep tones, which gave expression
to the thrill of indignation, which ran through the hall,
"He would hav^e been hurled from the Tarpeian Rock."
Congress manifested its sense of the gravity of the
situation by authorizing a loan of two hundred and fift}"
millions of dollars, and empowering the President to call
into the field five hundred thousand men, and as many
more as he might deem necessary.
SURRENDER OF MASON AND SLIDELL.
No act of the British Government, since the "stamp
act" of the Revolution, has ever excited such intense feel-
ing of hostility toward Great Britain, as her haughty
demand for the surrender of Mason and Slidell. It
required nerve, in the President, to stem the storm of
popular feeling, and yield to that demand, and it was, for
a time, the most unpopular act of his administration.
But when the excitement of the day had passed, it was
approved by the sober judgment of the Nation.
Prince Albert is kindly and gratefully remembered in
America, where it is believ^ed that his action, in modify-
ing the terms of that demand, probably saved the United
States and Great Britain from the horrors of war.
13
\
182 EARLY ILLINOIS.
LINCOLN AND THE ABOLITION OF SLAVERY.
When in June, 1858, at his home, in Springfield, Mr.
Lincoln startled the people with the declaration, "This
government can not endure, permanently, half slave and
half free," and when, at the close of his speech, to those
who were laboring for the ultimate extinction of slavery,
he exclaimed, with the voice of a prophet, "We shall not
fail, if we stand firm, we shall not fail. Wise councils may
accelerate, or mistakes delay, but sooner or later the vic-
tory is sure to come;" he anticipated success, through
years of discussion, and final triumph through peaceful
and constitutional means by the ballot. He did not for-
see, nor even dream (unless in those dim mysterious
shadows, which sometimes startle by half revealing the
future), his own elevation to the presidency. He did not
then suspect that he had been appointed by God, and
should be chosen by the people, to proclaim the emanci-
pation of a race, and to save his country. He did not for-
see that slavery was so soon to be destroyed, amidst the
flames of war which itself kindled.
HIS MODERATION.
He entered upon his administration with the single pur-
pose of maintaining national unity, and many reproached
and denounced him for the slowness of his anti-slavery
measures. The first of the series was the abolition of slav-
ery at the National Capitol. This act gave freedom to
three thousand slaves, with compensation to their loyal
masters. Contemporanious with this was an act confer-
ring freedom upon all colored soldiers who should serve
in the Union armies and upon their families. The next
was an act, which I had the honor to introduce, pro-
hibiting slavery in all the territories, and wherever the
National Government had jurisdiction. But the great, the
decisive act of his administration, was the "Emancipation
Proclamation."
EMANCIPATION PROCLAMATION.
The President had urged, with the utmost earnestness,
on the loyal slave-holders, of the Border States, gradual
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 183
and compensated emancipation, but in vain. He clearly
saw, all saw, that the slaves, as used by the confederates,
were a vast power, contributing^ immensely to their ability
to carry on the war, and, that by declaring their freedom,
he woulci convert millions of freedmen into active friends
and allies of the Union. The people knew that he was
deliberating upon the question of issuing this Emancipa-
tion Proclamation. At this crisis, the Union men of the
Border States made an appeal to him to withhold the
edict, and suffer slavery to survive.
They selected John J. Crittenden, a venerable and elo-
quent man, and their ablest statesman, to make, on the
floor of Congress, a public appeal to the President, to
withhold the proclamation. Mr. Crittenden had been
governor of Kentucky, her senator in Congress, attorney-
general of the United States, and now, in his old age,
covered with honors, he accepted, like John Ouincy Adams,
a seat in Congress, that in this crisis he might help to
save his country.
He was a sincere Union man, but believed it unwise to
disturb slavery. In his speech, he made a most eloquent
and touching appeal, from a Kentuckian to a Kentuckian.
He said, among other things, "There is a niche, near to
that of Washington, to him who shall save his country.
If Mr. Lincoln will step into that niche, the founder and
the preserver of the Republic shall stand side by side."
* "^ Owen Lovejoy, the brother of Elijah P. Love-
joy, who had been mobbed and murdered, because he
would not surrender the liberty of the press, replied to
Crittenden. After his brother's murder, kneeling upon the
green sod which covered that brother's grave, he had taken
a solemn vow, of eternal war upon slavery. Ever after,
like Peter the Hermit, with a heart of fire and a tongue of
lightning, he had gone forth, preaching his crusade
against slavery. At length, in his reph', turning to Crit-
tenden, he said, "The gentleman, from Kentucky, says he
has a niche for Abraham Lincoln, where is it.-*"
Crittenden pointed toward Heaven.
Lovejoy continuing said, "He points upward, but, sir!
if the President follows the counsel of that gentleman,
and becomes the perpetuator of slaver}', he should point
184 EARLY ILLINOIS.
dozumuard, to some dungeon in the temple of Moloch,
who feeds on human blood, and where are forged chains
for human limbs; in the recesses of whose temple woman
is scourged and man tortured, and outside the walls are
lying dogs, gorged with human flesh, as Byron describes
them, lying around the walls of Stambool." "That," said
Lov^ejoy, "is a suitable place for the statue of him who
would perpetuate slavery."
*T, too," said he, "have a temple for Abraham Lincoln,
but it is in freedom's holy fane, ^ "" not sur-
rounded by slave fetters and chains, but with the symbols
of freedom — not dark with bondage, but radiant with the
light of liberty. In that niche he shall stand proudly,
nobly, gloriously, with broken chains and slave's whips
beneath his feet. ^ ^ That is a fame worth liv-
ing for, aye, more, it is a fame worth dying for, though
that death led through Gethsemene and the agony of the
accursed tree." ^ ^ -h-
"It is said," continued he, "that Wilberforce went up to
the judgment seat with the broken chains of eight hun-
dred thousand slaves! Let Lincoln make himself the
Liberator, and his name shall be enrolled, not only in this
earthly temple, but it shall be traced on the living stones
of that temple which is reared amid the thrones of
Heaven."
Lovejoy's prophecy has been fulfilled — in this world —
you see the statues to Lincoln, with broken chains at his
feet, rising all over the world, and — in that other world —
few will doubt that the prophecy has been realized.
In September, 1862, after the Confederates, by their
defeat at the great battle of Antietam, had been driven
back from Maryland and Pennsylvania, Lincoln issued the
Proclamation. It is a fact, illustrating his character, and
showing that there was in him what many would call a
tinge of superstition, that he declared, to Secretary Chase,
that he had made a solemn vow to God, saying, "if Gen-
eral Lee is driven back from Pennsylvania, I will crown
the result with the declaration of I^REEDOM TO THE
Slave." The final Proclamation was issued on the first
of January, 1863. In obedience to an American custom,
he had been receiving calls on that New-Year's-day, and,
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 1 85
for liours, shakin<^ hands. As the paper was brought to
him by the Secretary of State, to be signed, he said,
"iNIr. Seward, I liave been shaking liands all day, and my
right hand is almost paralyzed. If my name ever gets
into history, it will be for this act, and my whole soul is in
it. If m\' hand trembles when I sign the proclamation,
those who examine the document hereafter, will say, "he
hesitated."
Then, resting his arm a moment, he turned to the table,
took up the pen, and slowly and firmly wrote Abra/iam.
Lincoln. He smiled as, handing the paper to Mr. Seward,
he said, "that will do."
From this day, to its final triumph, the tide of victory
seemed to set more and more in favor of the Union cause.
The capture of Vicksburg, the victory of Gettysburg,
Chattanooga, Chicamauga, Lookout-IMountain, Missionary
Ridge, Sheridan's brilliant campaign in the Valley of the
Shenandoah; Thomas' decisive victory at Nashville; Sher-
man's march, through the Confederacy, to the sea; the
capture of Fort McAllister; the sinking of tJic Alabama;
the taking of Mobile, by Farragut; the occupation of Col-
umbus, Charlestown, Savannah; the evacuation of Peters-
burg and Richmond; the surrender of Lee to Grant; the
taking of Jefferson Davis a prisoner; the triumph every-
where of the National Arms; such were the events which
followed (though with delays and bloodshed) the "Procla-
mation of Emancipation."
THE AMENDMENT TO THE CONSTITUTION.
Meanwhile Lincoln had been triumphantly reelected,
Congress had, as before stated, abolished slavery at the
Capital, prohibited it in all the territories, declared all
negro soldiers in the Union armies, and their families free,
and had repealed all laws which sanctioned or recognized
slavery, and the President had crowned and consummated
all, by the proclamation of emancipation. One thing
alone remained to perfect, confirm, and make everlastingly
permanent these measures, and this was to embody in the
Constitution itself, the prohibition of slavery everywhere
within the Republic.
To change the organic law, rcc^uired the adoption by a
^
1 86 EARLY ILLINOIS.
two-thirds' vote of a joint resolution, by Congress, and that
this should be submitted to, and ratified by two-thirds of
the States.
The President, in his annual message and in personal
interviews with members of Congress, urged the passage
of such resolution. To test the strength of the measure,
in the House of Representatives, I had the honor, in Feb-
ruary, 1864, to introduce the following resolution:
''Resolved, That the Constitution should be so amended
as to abolish slavery in the United States wherever it now
exists, and to prohibit its existence in every part thereof
forever" (Cong. Globe, vol. 50, p. 659). This was adopted,
by a decided vote, and was the first resolution ever passed
by Congress in favor of the entire abolition of slavery.
But, although it received a majority, it did not receive a
majority of two-thirds.
The debates on the Constitutional Amendment (perhaps
the greatest in our Congressional history, certainly the
most important since the adoption of the Constitution) ran
through two sessions of Congress. Charles Sumner, the
learned senator from Massachusetts, brought to the dis-
cussion, in the Senate, his ample stores of historical illus-
tration, quoting largely in its favor from the historians,
poets, and statesmen of the past.
The resolution was adopted in the Senate by the large
vote of ayes, 38, noes, 6.
In the lower House, at the first session, it failed to
obtain a two-thirds' vote, and, on a motion to reconsider,
went over to the next session.
Mr. Lincoln again earnestly urged its adoption, and, in
a letter to Illinois friends, he said, "The signs look better.
* * Peace does not look so distant as it did. I
hope it will come soon, and come to stay, and so come as
to be worth keeping in all future time."
I recall, very vividly, my New-Year's-call upon the
President, January, 1864. I said:
"I hope, Mr. President, one year from to-day I may
have the pleasure of congratulating you on the occur-
rence of three events which now seem probable."
"What are they.^" inquired he.
"i. That the rebellion may be entirely crushed.
ABRAHAM LINXOLN. 1 8/
"2. That the Constitutional Amendment, abolishing and
prohibiting slavery, may have been adopted.
"3. And that Abraham Lincoln may have been re-
elected President."
"I think," replied he, with a smile, "I would be glad to
accept the first two as a compromise."
General Grant, in a letter, remarkable for that clear
good-sense and practical judgment for which he is distin-
guished, condensed into a single sentence the political
argument in favor of the Constitutional Amendment, "The
North and South," said he, "can never live at peace with
each other except as one nation and that zuithoiit slavery^
GARFIELD'S SPEECH.
I would be glad to quote from this great debate, but
must confine myself to a brief extract from the speech
of the present President, then a member of the House.
He began by saying, "Mr. Speaker, we shall never know
why slavery dies so hard in this Republic, and in this
Hall, until we know why sin outlives disaster and Satan
is immortal." "" ^ "How well do I remember,"
he continued, "the history of that distinguished predeces-
sor of mine, JosJina R. Giddings, lately gone to his rest,
who, with his forlorn hope of faithful men, took his life
in his hands and, in the name of justice, protested against
the great crime, and who stood bravely in his place until
his white locks, like the plume of Henry of Navarre,
marked where the battle of freedom raged fiercest." "^^
'" "In its mad arrogance, slavery lifted its hand against
the Union, and since that fatal day it has been a fugi-
tive and a vagabond upon the earth."
Up to the last roll-call, on the question of the passage
of the resolution, we were uncertain and anxious about
the result. We needed Democratic votes. We knew we
should get some, but whether enough to carry the meas-
ure none could surely tell.
As the clerk called the names of members, so perfect
was the silence that the sound of a hundred pencils keep-
ing tally could be heard through the Hall.
Finally, when the call was completed, and the speaker
announced that the resolution was adopted, the result was
-^
1 88 EARLY ILLINOIS.
received by an uncontrollable burst of enthusiasm. Mem-
bers and spectators (especially the galleries, which were
crowded with convalescent soldiers) shouted and cheered,
and, before the speaker could obtain quiet, the roar of
artillery on Capitol Hill proclaimed to the City of Wash-
ington, the passage of the resolution. Congress adjourned,
and we hastened to the White House to" congratulate the
President on the event.
He made one of his happiest speeches. In his own
peculiar words, he said, '' TJie great job is finishcdr "I
can not but congratulate," said he, "all present, myself,
the country, and the whole world on this great moral
victory."
PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS.
And now, with an attempt to sketch very briefly some
of his peculiar personal characteristics, I must close.
This great Hercules of a man had a heart as kind and
tender as a woman. Sterner men thought it a weak-
ness. It saddened him to see others suffer, and he shrunk
from inflicting pain. Let me illustrate his kindness and
tenderness by one or two incidents. One summer's day,
walking along the shaded path leading from the Execu-
tive-mansion to the War-oflice, I saw the tall awkward
form of the President seated on the grass under a tree.
A wounded soldier, seeking back-pay and a pension, had
met the President, and, having recognized him, asked his
counsel. Lincoln sat down, examined the papers of the
soldier, and told him what to do, sent him to the proper
Bureau with a note, which secured prompt attention.
After the terribly destructive battles between Grant and
Lee, in the Wilderness of Virginia, after days of dreadful
slaughter, the lines of ambulances, conveying the wounded
from the steamers on the Potomac to the great field
hospitals on the heights around Washington, would be
continuous, — one unbroken line from the wharf to the
hospital. At such a time, I have seen the President, in
his carriage, driving slowly along the line, and he looked
like one who had lost the dearest members of his own
family. On one such occasion, meeting me, he stopped
and said, "I can not bear this; this suffering, this loss of
life — is dreadful."
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 1 89
I recalled to him a line from a letter he had years
before written to a friend, whose great sorrow he had
sought to console. Reminding him of the incident, I
asked him, "Do you remember writing to your suffering
friend these words:
''A fid tJiis too s J tail pass aiuay,
Never fear. Victory will comer
In all his State papers and speeches during these years
of strife and passion, there can be found no words of
bitterness, no denunciation. When others railed, he railed
not again. He was always dignified, magnanimous,
patient, considerate, manl}% and true. His duty was ever
performed " with malice toward none, with charity for
all," and with "firmness in the right as God givx-s us to
see the right."
NEVER A DEMAGOGUE.
Lincoln was never a demagogue. He respected and
loved the people, but never flattered them. No man ever
heard him allude to his humble life and manual labor,
in a way to obtain votes. None knew better than he,
that splitting rails did not qualify a man for public duties.
He realized painfully the defects of his education, and
labored diligently and successfully to supply his defi-
ciencies.
HIS CONVERSATION.
He had no equal as a talker in social life. His con-
versation was fascinating and attractive. He was full of
wit, humor, and anecdote, and, at the same time, original,
suggestive, and instructive. There was in his character a
singular mingling of mirthfulness and melanchol)'. While
his sense of the ludicrous was keen, and his fun and mirth
were exuberent, and sometimes almost irrepressible; his
conversation sparkling with jest, story, and anecdote and
in droll description, he would pass suddenly to another
mood, and become sad and pathetic — a melancholy ex-
pression of his homely face would show that he was " a
man of sorrows and acquainted with grief"
190 EARLY ILLINOIS.
HIS STORIES.
The newspapers, in America, have ahvays beeri full of
Lincoln's stories and anecdotes, some true and many fabu-
lous.
He always had a story ready, and, if not, he could
improvise one, just fitted for the occasion. The follow-
ing may, I think, be said to have been adapted:
An Atlantic port, in one of the British provinces, was,
during the war, a great resort and refuge for blockade-
runners, and a large contraband trade was said to have
been carried on from that port with the Confederates.
Late in the summer of 1864, while the election of presi-
dent was pending, Lincoln being a candidate, the Gov-
ernor-General of that province, with some of the principal
officers, visited Washington, and called to pay their
respects to the executive. Mr. Lincoln had been very
much annoyed by the failure of these officials to enforce,
very strictly, the rules of neutrality, but he treated his
guests with great courtesy. After a pleasant interview,
the Governor, alluding to the approaching presidential
election, said, jokingly, but with a grain of sarcasm, 'T
understand, Mr. President, everybody votes in this coun-
try. If we remain until November can we vote.''"
**You remind me," replied the President, "of a country-
man of yours, a green emigrant from Ireland. Pat arrived
in New York on election day, and was, perhaps, as eager
as Your Excellency, to vote, and to vote early and late
and often. So, upon his landing at Castle Garden, he
hastened to the nearest voting place, and, as he ap-
proached, the judge, who received the ballots, inquired,
'who do you want to vote for.^ on which side are you.-^'
Poor Pat was embarrassed, he did not know who were the
candidates. He stopped, scratched his head, then, with
the readiness of his countrymen, he said:
** ' I am foment the Government, anyhow. Tell me, if
your Honor plases, \yhich is the rebellion side, and I'll tell
you how I want to vote. In Ould Ireland, I was always
on the rebellion side, and, by Saint Patrick, I'll stick to
that same in America.'
**Your Excellency," said Mr. Lincoln, "would, I should
think, not be at all at a loss on which side to vote.''"
ABRAHAM LINCOLN. I9I
THE BOOKS HE READ.
The two books he read most were the Bible and Shake-
speare. With them he was famihar, readini\ The chances may be fearful, but
nevertheless, there is hope, and history is filled with in-
stances of the successful achievements of a forlorn hope.
But in November last, what a spectacle was presented!
One million five hundred thousand freemen, with an un-
failing constancy, a devotion and a heroic fidelity to their
cause, marched up to the polls and voted for Stephen A.
Douglas! Their cause was in as desperate a strait as ever
202 EARLY ILLINOIS.
was that of a defeated army ; they knew they were marked
men; they were conspicuously adorned for the shots of
the enemy, yet they hesitated not, they faltered not, nor
were they dismayed. They were forlorn, but they could
not call themselves a forlorn hope, for they had no hope;
all was lost, all was gone. An active enemy in front, a
base and treacherous foe in the rear; nevertheless, with
bayonets fixed, shoulder to shoulder, and with locked step,
in solid column, and with rapid stride, they marched boldly
to the last encounter! That was devotion to be proud of,
and the noble leader, whose courage had led him personally
into the very recesses of the enemy's camp, felt prouder
of these million and half of unbought votes, given for him
by men who knew he had not and would not have offices
or rewards to bestow, than if he had been elected by the
exertions of those who were confident of favors from him.
Since Clay, no American ever had such hosts of devoted
personal friends, ever had such multitudes follow him be-
cause they loved him personally. In the consciousness of
this popular affection, Mr. Douglas found ample compen-
sation for his public labors. And it was his boast and his
pride, that he. had never, by precept or example, taught
any of his countrymen to refuse to honor and to follow the
flag of his country, or to resist, oppose, and defy the laws
and Constitution of the Union. So strong was this honor-
able pride, so ever-present was the gratifying thought, that
even in his dying hours, rousing temporarily from the
delirium of fever, he gave that memorable message to his
children: "Tell them to Love and Obey the Con-
stitution OF THE United States."
I have said Mr. Douglas was an American. His Ameri-
canism was of a peculiar nature. Long before he entered
Congress, during the political controversies of i84i-'42,
he laid down as a fact which he hoped to see demonstrated
in recorded history, that North America was not too large
for this American republic, that the American flag could
cover but one nation, and that nation should extend from
the extreme north to the lowest waters of the Gulf of
Mexico. Twenty years ago, he declared in Congress that
there was not room enough on this continent for another
government — either republican or monarchical, and at the
STEPHEN A. DOUGLAS. 203
hour of his death, this nation, with the gov^ernment in
tlie hands of men who had sneered at his doctrine, and
st}'led his pohcy as dema^^ogism, was about to tr\', by the
ordeal of battle, whether the national ensign could be kept
extended over our present existing limits, or a banner with
a strange device, planted over half the republic. I can not
do him greater justice than to quote his own clear and
forcible language: "It therefore, becomes us to put this
nation in a state of defence; and when we are told that
this will lead to war, all I have to say is this: violate no
treaty stipulations, nor any principle of the law of nations;
preserve the national honor and integrity of the country;
but, at the same time, assert our right to the last inch, and
then, if war comes, let it come. We may regret the neces-
sity which produced it, but when it does come, I would
administer to our citizens Hannibal's oath of eternal en-
mity, and not terminate it until the question was settled
forever." That was his language twenty years ago, and
yet there are those who affect to believe that Stephen A.
Douglas did not become a patriot until after he had lost
all hope of Southern support. It is true that this was said
respecting anticipated trouble with a foreign foe, but the
language is perfectly applicable to a domestic enemy. He
had more respect for, and could recognize and admit a
degree of honor on the part of a foreign enemy, that he
could not concede to a domestic one. His memorable
words — that in civil war there can be no neutrals — we
must be patriots or traitors — will serve to show his esti-
mate of those who dare to violate the Constitution of the
United States.
But that was not all he said. In almost prophetic lan-
guage, he then described a case which is now before the
country for decision. He declared that he would never
consent that rival petty republics should grow up on our
border, engendering jealousy of each other, and interfer-
ing with each other's domestic affairs, and continuall}' en-
dangering the i^oace of all. And the reason given for this
was, that the establishment of a new republic on this con-
tinent would at once excite a jealousy toward our own,
and as that new republic must natural I \' be the weaker, it
would seek European alliances, and these alliances would.
204 EARLY ILLINOIS.
of course, make this rival an instrument in the hands of
British power, through which to assail our interests. An
ocean-bound republic, with the whole continent under one
flag, was the favorite project of his early statesmanship,
and he lived just long enough to see the commencement
of an attempt, by the very men who repudiated his policy,
which, if successful, will see the Union split into as many
governments as there are States, and each of them a prey
to the avarice or intrigues of despotism abroad.
Time will not permit, nor is this altogether an appro-
priate occasion to dwell upon the many and varied national
matters in which Mr. Douglas took an active part. For
twenty years he was a leading man in the politics of the
country. During that time he has borne a conspicuous
part. His name has been blended with the legislative his-
tory of his country, and in all the branches of its progress.
The debates of Congress are an imperishable monument
to his industry, his sagacity, and his love of country. The
great act of legislation upon which his opponents have
assailed him most fiercely, and which, even after death, has
been quoted as "the great mistake, not to say crime" of
his life, was the one in which he took the most pride, and
which he felt to be the wisest and the best. It was the
Nebraska Act. A defence of that act is not needed here,
but as it served for years as a battery from which he was
assailed, it is but proper that in a few sentences it be stated
why he proposed it, why he pressed it, and why it failed.
Mr. Douglas was one of those who saw that the agita-
tion of the slavery question in Congress could accomplish
nothing, save to widen the social and political breach that
has always existed between the slaveholding and non-
slavehoiding States. Seven years experience in Congress
confirmed him in the opinion that it was necessary to-
remove that question from the halls of the national legis-
lature. In 1850, the compromise bills of that year, of
which he wrote every word, were passed. California had
been acquired, and a road to the Pacific was indispensable.
In 1854, the immense tract of territory, now known as
Nebraska and Kansas, was closed, by law, to emigration
and to travel. Like a huge block, it barred the natural
pathway to the Pacific. The South was pressing a railroad
STEPHEN A. DOUflLAS. 205
from Memphis, and south-westerly across the continent.
]\Ir. Douglas wanted a fair chance to have that railroad
lead from the north, where it could find communication
through Chicago to the Atlantic. Our railroads had al-
ready reached the Mississippi, and others were projected,
extending to the Missouri. Me wanted Nebraska and
Kansas opened, and the country made free to the enter-
prise of the north. In case of a dissolution of the Union,
it was essential to have the Pacific connected by some
other route than one through a hostile section. That was
the motive for organizing these territories — a motive hav-
ing its origin in the desire to benefit the whole nation, and
especially to give to the northwest a fair o])portunity to
compete for the commerce of the great east.
But that curse of all things, the question of African
slavery, la}' at the threshold. He could not open Kansas
and Nebraska without waking the sleeping Demon. He
therefore determined to make one grand struggle, to seize
the monster, to invite both North and South to unite in
chaining it; and, having it in chains, to remove it forever
beyond the limits of national legislation. For that pur-
pose he framed the Nebraska Act, by which he asked the
North and the South forever to bind themselves to leave
the question of the existence or non-existence of slavery
to the exclusive adjudication and determination of the
people of the respective territories. The bill passed, and
became a law. Its design and intent plainly stamped upon
its face, and its friends all committed to abide its results.
He had accomplished all his purposes, so far as they could
be done by legislation. The rest he left to time and to
the intelligence of the people; and throughout the ev^ent-
ful years that followed he was not an indifterent but a
confident spectator, waiting for results which every day
seemed more inevitably certain. For two years he fought
rebellion in Kansas, and to Pierce he offered just what he
offered to Lincoln — his aid in suppressing rebellion, and
resistance to the laws and Constitution. In 1856, the Cin-
cinnati convention met. He was but little troubled as to
who should be the nominee, but he was greatly agitated
lest some portion of the South would not ratify and
approve the great act of 1854. But that convention, with-
'-V
206 EARLY ILLINOIS.
out a dissenting voice, did ratify that act, and then from
the very bottom of his heart he rejoiced. Tlie chain which
bound fanaticism forever had been riveted, and the terri-
tories were no longer to be divided by a black line, but
freedom was as free to go to the lowest confines of the
continent as it was to tread the ocean-washed shores of
Oregon. Never, except by something approaching a
miracle, would there be another slave-State formed by the
free will of the people, and no State, except formed by the
free will of the people, could ever be admitted without a
violation of the contract. In the fullness of his joy, and
in the tumult of his gratitude, he sent that dispatch which,
while it withdrew his name, unfortunately made Mr. Bu-
chanan President.
Despite the civil war and rebellion which had reigned in
Kansas, the great measure worked its own way successfully
toward the contemplated result; when lo, there came a
blow so sudden and unexpected, that no human sagacity
could have been prepared to meet it. The Lecompton
fraud was taken to the executive bosom, nursed into life;
a message was sent to Congress, requesting that, after the
manner of royal infants in other lands, this only child of
the bachelor President, should be portioned, pensioned, and
provided for at the national charge. Had Mr. Buchanan
been true to his trust, true to his plighted honor, and true
to the solemn oath of office, the issue of disunion would
have been tried on the Lecompton question, and rebellion
would have been compelled to take up arms in defence of
that horrid fraud — a fraud covered with blood, and reeking
with the stenches of the most shocking corruptions. Had
he been true, Mr. Douglas' original design and expecta-
tions would have been verified, and the ultraists of the
South, and not of the North, would have heaped contumely
upon the Nebraska bill and its author.
As the corner-stone of this University was laid under an
malediction upon the Nebraska bill and its living author, I
have thought it not inappropriate, that in burying the
illustrious dead beneath its monumental towers, a record
of the motive should be placed where posterity may find
that and the malediction together.
Mr. Douglas was an independent statesman. Looking
STEPIIKN A. DOUGLAS. 20/
at all questions from an immovable stand-point of princi-
ple, he could neither be coaxed nor driven into an approval
of what lie deemed to be \vron<^. To you, fellow-citizens,
in whose memory the eventful strug<^le of i857-'58 is still
fresh, it is unnecessary to enter into a detail of the wicked
and desperate efforts to destroy him, put forth by the
relentless old tyrant that fancied he was President, but
who was a mere puppet in the hands of that junta that
since then have openly avowed themselves traitors, even
while in office, to the government of which they were
sworn members. His offence was that he would not
truckle to the South, would not support a fraud, would not
overturn popular liberty, and would not falsify every act
and speech of his life. Party rule and party lash were
threatened; party rule and party lash were applied, but
strong and powerful as were his fealty and obligations
to his party, he acknowledged a higher fealty to the peo-
ple, and a stronger obligation to his own conscience. He
spurned executive smiles when those smiles were invita-
tions to crime, and with giant arm, he struck to the dust
the slaves who sought to bind him with chains of execu-
tive despotism. Standing almost alone in the Senate
House, he met the storm, and sustained the shock un-
moved, and never laid down his arms until the foul mon-
ster — Lecompton — lay dead and prostrate beneath his
feet. That contest afforded a fairer exhibition of Mr.
Douglas' varied talents than any that had preceded it.
But it also conveyed to the heart of ever}- honest man, the
conviction that he was sincere. No man had ever been
subjected to such an ordeal. Denounced and proscribed
by the Democratic administration; excluded, as far as a
mean and vengeful cabinet could do so, politically and
socially; surrounded by thousands of politicians, from
every part of the country, beseeching him not to sacrifice
his part)', by dividing it, and not to sacrifice his friends,
by having them thrust from office; deserted b)- the entire
Democratic press outside of his own State, and abandoned
by all those public men upon whose support he had reason
to rely; with a watchful enemy in front, anxious for him
to trip, or overstep the line of principle, that they might
precipitate his ruin, and elect one of their own men in his
208 EARLY ILLINOIS.
place; with his house watched by detectives, to report who
visited him, and with visitors coming under the guise of
confidence and friendship, to hold conversations, which
they purposed revealing to his injury; stricken even in the
midst of these fearful circumstances, by a painful and
disabling illness, it is not too much to say that the mental
faculties must have been strong indeed to have passed
through that protracted contest without once giving way
to doubt or hesitancy. And when, so far as the Senate
was concerned, the last vote was to be taken, how that
mind, operating sympathetically upon his physical nature,
enabled him to rise from a bed, where, for days, he had
been racked with pain, and in that chamber deliver a speech
which has never been surpassed.
His power of endurance, both physical and mental, were
truly surprising, commencing as long ago as 1838, when
he traversed in his campaign with Mr. Stuart, a region that
now has nine congressional districts, down to 1840, and
annually to 1852; and then the stormy campaigns of 1854,
where opposite every hustings hung his own effigies; and
again in 1856, when he traveled, up to the very hour of the
election, pledging himself that Buchanan was a patriot and
a man of truth. Hardly had he placed that individual in
power, before he was called upon to vindicate himself from
his agency in the fraud. And then followed the campaign
(I use the term by which these affairs are popularly known)
of 1858, with its excitements, its personalities, and you
will pardon a soldier in that memorable contest, for saying
— its brilliant results. That election Mr. Douglas never
claimed as a personal victory; he did not regard it as a
defeat of Mr. Lincoln, but he claimed it as a triumph of
the People, in a direct conflict with executive tyranny.
In i860, his physical and mental endurance was again
fearfully tested. Commencing on the Potomac, I may say,
he spoke day and night along the Atlantic coast, until he
reached the shores of New England; his voice then
sounded on his own native hills of Vermont, and the valley
of the Connecticut echoed to its clarion notes. Passing
westward through New York, he reached Lake Erie, and
then by another route returned to the sea-coast. We hear
of him awaking the yeomanry of Pennsylvania, and then
STEPIIEX A. DOUGLAS. 209
he is electrifying^ the Van Winkles of Nortli Carolina and
Virginia, lie then turned to the west, and throuij^h Ohio,
Indiana, Iowa, Wisconsin, Michigan, and his own loved
Illinois, he spoke to the gallant hosts that everywhere
greeted him, not in the despairing mood of one who knew
that all was lost, but in the language of a patriot and bro-
ther, finding more consolation in a virtuous defeat than a
\'ictory bought with personal shame and national ruin.
His words may be said to have been these: "We have
stood thus long defending the altars of our country; if we
must be overcome by numbers, lot us fall side by side, and
be buried with a constitution we can no longer successful!}-
defend."
He was an Orator such as America has never known.
His oratory was not exclusively adapted to any one, or
any number of circumstances. Wherever he was, at the
festive table, at the college exhibition, at a public recep-
tion, at a meeting of savans, at the village school, before
the court, before a town meeting, in the Senate — every-
where, under all circumstances, he was equal to the occa-
sion, and claimed and won the proud title of an Orator.
His oratory was peculiar to himself. He was always
natural. He never attempted the pedantic; he never
sought to dazzle by fanciful imagery; he never employed
any but the simplest language. The consequence was that
gifted with a strong mind, a complete vocabulary of purest
Saxon, and speaking always from an earnest conviction, he
addressed himself to the minds of his hearers, and rarely
ever failed to reach their hearts and enlist their sympathies.
No man owed more to his powers of orator}' than Mr.
Douglas, and no man every accomplished more by oratory
than he did. In 1834, when he had not been in the State
six months, he met, in debate, one of the ablest lawyers
and distinguished speakers of that day. He was a beard-
less youth, unknown, small and delicately made. His
opponent the political leader of his country, at home and
among friends and neighbors who took pride in his success.
That event is familiarly known. It was but a rc-cnact-
ment of the story of David and Goliath, with this addition
that the populace in their enthusiasm bestowed upon the
victor the title of the vanc^uished, a term which followed
him ever after.
2IO EARLY ILLINOIS.
But it was in the Senate that this great power was shown
in all its force. That was the great arena of his glory.
There he stood without a successful rival. In that theatre
he bid defiance to all opponents, and in that theatre he
gained his most unfading laurels.
It was my good fortune, while engaged in another busi-
ness than that I now follow, to have been a witness of, and
to have heard all, the debates in the Senate on the com-
promises of 1850, and on the celebrated Kansas and Ne-
braska Act. And what debates they were! As I recall
them at this time, when the literature and conversation of
the day is altogether of a military and warlike character,
that Senate seems to me as one general battle-field, in
which every possible engine of war is playing its noisy and
destructive part. * * * -k-
But I leave the public servant, and ask your patience
while I speak of the man. And after all, there can be no
true greatness that has not an honorable heart to support
and maintain it. His integrity was unquestionable and
unquestioned. Never, even in the fiercest and most pitiless
of all the many storms that broke upon him, was there
ever a stain or an imputation upon his personal honor.
Clay, with all his greatness, did not escape the calumny of
corruption; Webster had enemies mean enough to charge
him with bribery; but high as party and personal malice
may reach after their victim, they spared the personal
honor of Douglas. He went through nearly thirty years
of public life, and no word of suspicion against his integ-
rity was uttered. Until within a few years he had been
poor; for twenty-five, years he held ofiice continually, and
as legislator, judge, and senator, he had remained not only
pure, but unsuspected. He never received from ofiice
more than enough to yield him an ordinary support for
himself and family. Some years ago he invested a few
hundred dollars in real estate. That investment grew in
wealth, and extended until it became magnificent. His
purchases were in and near Chicago, and if he became
rich, it was because Chicago became rich. His wealth
increased with the wealth of the City, and as that receded
so did the value of his possessions. He could never amass
wealth by the regular rules of trade. What he had was
68
STEPHEN A. DOIGI.AS. 211
held by him only as trustee for the multitude who called
him friend. With hand ever open, with purse-strings never
drawn, he dealt out with liberal hand to all who soucfht
his aid. He prized riches only as a means of aiding; others,
and he gave freely and cordiall}' while a dollar was left.
His was no ostentatious liberalit\'. Instead of creditinc^ his
own sagacity with the fortune that resulted from his in-
vestments, he recognized the disbursement of that fortune
for noble purposes, as an additional obligation imposed
upon him by Providence. Hence it was that the establish-
ment of the Chicago University, when proposed to him,
met, as you (President Burroughs) well know, a prompt
and ready response. He saw in it a means by which he
could serve the State, this City, and his fellows-men, for all
time to come, and with him Action ahvays followed con-
viction. The establishment of the University at once
became an object, and with the endowment came the prac-
tical and the only condition, that the building should at
once be commenced. He did not fancy that spirit which
hoards through life great masses of wealth, to be admin-
istered for good purposes after the owner is gone. He
preferred to do good at once, and in seeing others enjoy
the benefits of his liberality, found infinitely more happi-
ness than if it had been retained by himself. He took the
utmost pride in this University, and those who have sup-
posed his life to have been devoted to the attainment of
the Presidency, should know, as his friends do know, that
personally, he found as much pleasure in the anticipation
of presiding as President of the Regents of this Univer-
sity, and in the active business of all public enterprises, as
in presiding at the cabinet councils of the nation. I do
not say that he did not aspire to the Presidency of the
Republic; but I do say, and say it from personal knowl-
edge, that were it not for the sake of friends, and to gratify
their devotion of unlimited zeal, his political ambition
would have soucfht no hiijher title than the Leader of the
American Senate. He often contrasted the two positions
of President and Senator, and took great personal pride in
the fact that it had been demonstrated in his own case,
that a President, through backed by all the powers of the
nation, was not equal to a contest with a single Senator
who did his duty to the people.
^\
212 EARLY ILLINOIS.
He is buried within sight of the halls of this University.
At evening hour its shadows reach his tomb, covering it
witli the mellow light so appropriate to its solemn silence.
As the pilgrim to his tomb shall stand at its side, musing
on the memory of the dead, he will turn involuntarily to
the west, and gazing upon the noble edifice, will exclaim
— there stands the monument to the Man which shall live
forever; and which each year shall send forth to the
country its graduates, all bearing upon their hearts the
lesson of Douglas' great example.
Yet, this man with the free and bountiful hand, whose
whole life was devoted to the service of the people, and
upon whose private purse there was a never-ending de-
mand, died poor. From the magnificent domain, which a
few years ago he called his own, his family is debarred by
the legal claims of others. In the broad State of Illinois,
enriched by his labors, developed by his genius, and peo-
pled through his enterprise, there was not ground enough
that his children could call their own, in which to deposit
his coflin.
The faithful widow, faithful even to the memory of the
love which her husband bore to Illinois, at the solicitation
of the people, gave up all that was left of him, and gave
too her own little tract of land for his grave.
Let us hope that his life, devoted to the benefit of his
race, may not have been spent in vain. His great heart
throbbed and pulsated only for the public good, and let us
hope that his countrymen now and hereafter may find in
his patriotism, integrity, and life an example worthy of
imitation.
He has gone from among us, but he lives in his fame.
No more will this City resound with the fierce clamor of
popular rage, or be filled with the pageantry of his tri-
umphal processions. No more will his voice be heard on
the stump, in the forum, or in the Senate, but the student
of history, during all coming time, will search in vain for
the record of brighter deeds, of a purer life, of a nobler
heart, of an equal eloquence, or for evidences of those
indomitable attributes of intellect and manhood, that be-
long to, and must forev^er attach to the name of Douglas!
69
From the Chicaeo-
ple to change our form of government, but Lincoln de-
nounced that as x)olitical heresy ; at all events, if changed
at all, it must be done in times of peace and not by armed
rebellion. There were political philanthropists who clamoied.
for the overthrow of slavery, and advocated the dissolution
of the Union rather than live in a country under whose
governnK^nt slavery was tolerated.
But Lincoln was a wiser and better i)hihintr()phist than
they. He would have the Union with slavery or without
slavery. He preferred it without, and his ])r^lVrence pre-
vailed. How incomi)arably worse would have been the
condition of the slave in the Confederacy with a living
slave for its chief corner-stone, than in the Uiii« ilie most uni<|iu' iKTsonaj^e in
Anu'rican history, and ont* of tlu* ,i;n'atesi. His rliar-
aftiT is lull of salii'nt points. If time woiihl jK'rmit,
and tlio occasi;olden pathway to him ; adversity was necessary to
brin^ out the Jewels in his character; his sorrows
were lilessings in disguise, for they fitted him for his
«;reat luture. His early struggles and final success are
Kiierishable renown and a
nuirtyr's tjrave. He did not enter upon his threat
tru-it imprepared fur its duties. He had alieady taken
rank with the altlest mei» of the West ; he had had
an experience of thirty years at the bar in a varied
praciice; and had held a seat in the State, and Kederal,
legislature. He had studied, with profound attention,
the structure of our pivernmeut, and his interpreta-
tion was accepted, without (|Ue>tion, by a very huye
proportiiMi of the American people. From a l«H*al
-A
leader he became, by force o( cliaracter. ami his won-
derful knowledge of, and control over, men, one of the
greatest political chieftains of modern times.
Mr. Lincoln saw, in his elevation to the Presidency,
but another step toward the hilHllment of the destiny
he believed, at times, awaited him. Few rulers ever
had a more difficult part to play when they took office ;
none of his predecessors had problems of equal mo-
ment to deal with. He found the country on the very
threshold of revolution. The government was threat-
ened with overthrow ; and, within sixty days, a civil
war. of gigantic proportions, broke out. The firing
on Sumter was the gage of battle thrown down by
the enemy, and the Federal government was not in a
position even to consider the propriety of taking it up.
The challenge was accepted at once : and the new ad-
ministration found itself engaged in a conflict of arms
before fairly w^arm in its seat. We frecjuently ask our-
selves the question, "could not the war have been
averted?" Great conflicts can always be averted if
one party or the other will give up their convictions.
There would not have been any American Revolution
had our fathers submitted to the unjust demands of the
English king. The conflict , between human slavery
and freedom, had reached such a point, by 1861,
that any other settlement, than by appeal to arms,
seemed out of the question. The ordeal of war is al-
ways terrible, but there are greater evils. The dear-
est of human rights have been won in the carnage of
battle, and freedom, in Cimrch and State, received its
first baptism in blood.
During the conflict the Union had no warmer friend
than him whose hand guided the ship of State. U
82
there were one nmn, :il)ove all others, anxious to pre-
serve the intet^rity nl" tiu' Tnion, and to brinf< it out of
the eontiiet unimpaired, that man was Mr. Lincoln.
He entered uiM)n the struirjjle wilii the intt-nt (»f sav-
inj; the I'nion at wliatevir eost, and it is hardly nec-
essary to remind you, my comrades, how suecessfully
it wa.s aeeontplisiied. Mistakes, and «;reat ones, were
to i)e expected, hut, in the lij?ht of the past, we are
astonishecl thcv were so few. Those who stoom the human body and
saving the patient. Slavery had long been a reproach
to us. A government, founded on the sublime tloetrine
of the Declaration of !nde|>en*tory that can compare with it, the ora-
tion of Thucydides, of Alheas, ibr the Athenian tlead
of the Peloponesian war, and that Mr. Lincoln's had
the advantage over that in being more natural, and
better voiiehed for as a matter of imdoubted occur-
rence.
His sense of ju4iee was remarkable. He was never
known to fail to succor the weak and afHicted, an I lie
i)oldly espoused the side of the oppressed regardle-H
of consequences. It is doubtful if the country ever
had another public man who so thoroughly hated
wrong and injustice. Integrity of character was one
of his marked characteristics. Judge Dtivis, his inti-
mate friend, says the framework of his mental, and
moral, being was honesty. He was a man of wonder-
ful humanity and great depth ot ieeling. On one oc-
casion he attempted to deliver tlie luneral oration over
the body of a beloved iriend, but he broke down an!
could not proceed. His stejvmother, who mourned
him as one of her own, said, after his death, " Abe
was the best )joy I ever saw." One phase of Air.
Lincoln's character is inexpressibly sad, the deep
gloom and depression that never left him. He was
sometimes the gaye-^t when the saddest, and not infre-
quently the joke and jest were the onlv silver lining
to the cloud. He once said to a friend, that although
he appeared to enjoy life rapturously, it was a mis-
take. He often sought consolation by repeating por-
tions of a poem, entitled " Immortality," by an un-
known autlior, beginning,
" Oh ! why shouUl the .spirit of mortal be proud?"
and he has been known to turn aside from wei^jhty
aHJiirs of State to (jimte his favorite stanzas to a visitor.
After a carefnl estimate of the character of Mr. Lin-
cohi, I am justified in repeatinj? the words of the En>?-
lish poet, Decker, as applicable to him : —
" 'I'he best of uien
That e'er wore eartli Hl>uiit him,
A soft, meek, humMe, patient, tranquil spirit."
We pass, in silence, the tragic end of Mr. Lincoln.
The fatal shot, on that April evening, sent a thrill of
horror through the world hardly eipialed since the
cruel deed on Calvary. The night Hernando Corlez
was driven from the Aztec capital, has come down in
Sjmnish history as Noche Triste, the sad night, and for
like rea.son will the night of Mr. Lincoln's assassina-
tion be the Noche Tr j.?/e of American history.
If "the blood of the martyr is the seed of the
Church," Die lessons, faiij^hl by the life an-
tomac, where sleeps the Father of his Country ; the
other on the great prairies of the West, where lest
all that is mortal of Abraham Lincoln, who died
that the Union might live. These Meccas will have
their pilgrims while the Republic survives, or history
ecounta the deeds of the great.
\
t->>^^^pq§^^->
,-y^?-LUJ^. v7
^--^^ ^a-<"
^^^-2^
-^^^^*-c-^^
fX.yC^^.'t^^C^ _ K.^-i^-yL^CZ^ty*'^''-^ -*C. — ^^
/f-^Am
/
7
oud-i^^^^ i^ , ^. ^^^/^^^;C-^^^^-^^ <^^ ,
^^^
<-^^A^
^ d^^ ^hr /^^^-^.^^^
^-^^-i^Lt^ /^yL-4!l.^C^.^^ ^ ^^-^^-
6>
O
70
-^
^ A^/^^.
■^
^
^
^
-^
-^
wyi^
r .1:
XI. % -^^
''t i yi. '^^
W:.
.'^'N -^
i^.^iy- /
'i^
s\ \-'.
■sUt
.^^'''f
t t.
-J^^ '
^' . ••* ^
■d
/
-nf-
%^:^^
\
'^
Oi)
/^ '"- ■■'
/X-^/*
:i \x
v>
-^^
- • r^^^
.^»(V^
:4- 1
•$^■■7* :'
■\n<:
\\
<^.
^e^^
?^n
^/■/f
r<5,;
^X,«*'-Cio
w^:?:^ a:
t^Ts^^es^f^