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1928

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN
A BIOGRAPHICAL ESSAY
BY CARL SCHURZ
WITH AN ESSAY ON
THE PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN
BY TRUMAN H. BARTLETT
ILLUSTRATED

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
MDCCCCVII

COPYRIGHT 1 89 1 BY CARL SCHURZ
COPYRIGHT I907 BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

OF THIS EDITION IO4O COPIES WERE PRINTED
AT THE RIVERSIDE PRESS CAMBRIDGE MDCCCCVII

\

CONTENTS
ON THE LIFE-MASK OF ABRAHAM
LINCOLN Page i
By Richard Watson Gilder
THE PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN 5
By Truman H. Bartlett
THE HAND OF LINCOLN 39
By Edmund Clarence Stedman
ABRAHAM LINCOLN: A BIOGRAPHICAL
ESSAY 43
By Carl Schurz

NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS

NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS

ABRAHAM LINCOLN IN 1863 Frontispiece
This photograph was made by Brady on the Sunday before
the Gettysburg speech, delivered November 19, 1863. The
following account of the circumstances attending it is taken
from an article by Noah Brooks in " Scribner's Magazine" for
February, 1878: —
"One Saturday night, the President asked me if I had any
objection to accompanying him to a photographer's on Sun
day. He said that it was impossible for him to go on any other
day, and he would like to have me see him ' set.' Next day we
went together, and as he was leaving the house he stopped and
said, ' Hold on, I have forgotten Everett !' Stepping hastily
back, he brought with him a folded paper, which he explained
was a printed copy of the oration that Mr. Everett was to
deliver, in a few days, at Gettysburg. It occupied nearly the
whole of two pages of the c Boston Journal,' and looked very
formidable indeed. As we walked away from the house, Lin
coln said, ' It was very kind in Mr. Everett to send me this.
I suppose he was afraid I should say something that he wanted
to say. He need n't have been alarmed. My speech is n't
long.' ' So it is written, is it, then ? ' I asked. c Well, no,' was
the reply. ' It is not exactly written. It is not finished, any
way. I have written it over, two or three times, and I shall
have to give it another lick before I am satisfied. But it is short,
short, short.' I found, afterward, that the Gettysburg speech
was actually written, and rewritten a great many times. The
several draughts and interlineations of that famous address,
if in existence, would be an invaluable memento of its great
author. Lincoln took the copy of Everett's oration with him
to the photographer's, thinking that he might have time to
look it over while waiting for the operator. But he chatted
so constantly, and asked so many questions about the art of

NOTES ON
photography, that he scarcely opened it. The folded paper is
seen lying on the table, near the President, in the picture which
was made that day."

THE LIFE-MASK OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN,
FULL-FACE VIEW FROM THE PLASTER Page $
This life-mask of Lincoln was made by Leonard W. Volk in
April, i860, just before Lincoln's nomination for the presi
dency. A few replicas of the mask in plaster were early made,
and it has also been cast in bronze, — in Paris, in 1877, under
the direction of Mr. Truman H. Bartlett, and in New York,
a few years later, as the result of a subscription taken for this
purpose. An important account of the making of the mask,
written by the sculptor himself, will be found in the " Cen
tury Magazine" for December, 1881.
THE LIFE-MASK OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN,
THREE-QUARTERS VIEW FROM THE PLAS
TER Page 12
RIGHT PROFILE OF THE MASK IN BRONZE Page 18
LEFT PROFILE OF THE MASK IN BRONZE Page 22
PROFILES OF LINCOLN AND WASHINGTON Page 26
The life-mask of Lincoln by Leonard W. Volk and that of
Washington by the French sculptor Houdon are considered
the two most important contributions yet made to American
plastic portraiture. The profile of Washington is taken from
Houdon's bust, the face of which was practically a replica of
the life-mask.

THE ILLUSTRATIONS xi
THE HANDS OF LINCOLN Page zo
The casts of the hands of Lincoln were made by Leonard
W. Volk in June, i860, just after Lincoln's nomination
for the Presidency. Replicas in plaster and bronze are not
uncommon.
THE HAND OF LINCOLN Page 41
ABRAHAM LINCOLN IN 1859 Page 50
From an original photograph owned by William Lloyd Gar
rison of Lexington, Mass. This photograph was made by
A. W. Fassett of Chicago in October, 1859, and the nega
tive was lost in the great Chicago fire in 1871.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN IN 1861 Page 64
From a rare photograph by an unknown photographer, copy
righted in 1 861 by D. Appleton & Company. From a copy
in the possession of Francis J. Garrison of Lexington, Mass.
LINCOLN WITH HIS GENERALS AT ANTIETAM Page 70
From a photograph taken by Alexander Gardner for Brady
just after the battle of Antietam on the 3d of October, 1862.
The original negative is now in the possession of the War
Department at Washington.
LINCOLN AND GENERAL McCLELLAN Page 82
From a photograph by Gardner taken at the same time as the
foregoing. The original negative is in the possession of the
War Department at Washington.

xii NOTES ON
LINCOLN STANDING ALONE Page 88
This is an enlargement of Lincoln's figure in a photograph by
Brady of a group composed of Lincoln, Gen. J. A. McCler-
nand, and Pinkerton the army detective.
RIGHT AND LEFT PROFILES OF ABRAHAM
LINCOLN Page 94
The profile of the right side of Lincoln's face is from a pho
tograph made by Brady in 1864. That of the left side was
made by Brady on November 8, 1863.
LINCOLN AND HIS SECRETARIES, JOHN HAY
AND JOHN G. NICOLAY Page 102
From a photograph by Brady taken at the same time as the
left profile, November 8, 1863.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN IN 1864 P^mio
From an un-retouched negative made March 9, 1864, by
Rice. This negative, with one of General Grant, was made in
commemoration of the appointment of Grant as Lieutenant-
General and Commander of all the armies of the Republic.
LINCOLN AND HIS SON "TAD" Page 122
From a photograph of uncertain date, by Brady.
LINCOLN IN 1865 Page 128
From the photograph by H. F. Warren of Waltham, Mass.,
taken March 6, 1865. The following interesting account of

THE ILLUSTRATIONS xiii
this late and important picture of Lincoln was communicated
to the " Century Magazine" for October, 1882, by Mr. Alex
ander Starbuck of Waltham, Mass. : —
"About the last of February, 1865, Mr. H. F. Warren, a
photographer of Waltham, Mass., left home, intending, if
practicable, to visit the army in front of Richmond and Pe
tersburg. Arriving in Washington on the morning of the 4th
of March, and finding it necessary to procure passes to carry
out the end he had in view, he concluded to remain there
until the inauguration ceremonies were over, and, having car
ried with him all the apparatus necessary for taking nega
tives, he decided to try to secure a sitting from the President.
At that time rumors of plots and dangers had caused the friends
of President Lincoln to urge upon him the necessity of a guard,
and, as he had finally permitted the presence of such a body,
an audience with him was somewhat difficult. On the afternoon
ofthe 6th of March, Mr. Warren sought a presentation to Mr.
Lincoln, but found, after consulting with the guard, that an in
terview could be had on that day in only a somewhat irregular
manner. After some conversation with the officer in charge,
who became convinced of his loyalty, Mr. Warren was admitted
within the lines, and, at the same time, was given to understand
that the surest way to obtain an audience with the President
was through the intercession of his little son c Tad.' The lat
ter was a great pet with the soldiers, and was constantly at
their barracks, and soon made his appearance, mounted upon
his pony. He and the pony were soon placed in position and
photographed, after which Mr. Warren asked c Tad' to tell his
father that a man had come all the way from Boston, and was
particularly anxious to see him and obtain a sitting from him.
' Tad ' went to see his father, and word was soon returned that
Mr. Lincoln would comply. In the mean time Mr. Warren had
improvised a kind of studio upon the south balcony of the
White House. Mr. Lincoln soon came out, and, saying but
a very few words, took his seat as indicated. After a single
negative was taken, he inquired, ' Is that all, sir ? ' Unwilling to
detain him longer than was absolutely necessary, Mr. Warren

xiv NOTES ON THE ILLUSTRATIONS
replied, c Yes, sir,' and the President immediately withdrew.
At the time he appeared upon the balcony the wind was blow
ing freshly, as his disarranged hair indicates, and, as sunset was
rapidly approaching, it was difficult to obtain a sharp picture.
Six weeks later President Lincoln was dead, and it is doubtless
true that this is the last photograph ever made of him."
There is a good deal of evidence to point to the belief that
the so-called "last" photograph of Lincoln by Gardner, for
which the date of April 9, 1865, is given, was actually taken
somewhat earlier than this by Warren.

ON THE LIFE-MASK OF
ABRAHAM LINCOLN

ON THE LIFE-MASK OF
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
This bronze doth keep the very form and mould
Of our great martyr's face. Yes, this is he:
That brow all wisdom, all benignity ;
That human, humorous mouth; those cheeks that hold
Like some harsh landscape all the summer's gold ;
That spirit fit for sorrow, as the sea
For storms to beat on ; the lone agony
Those silent, patient lips too well foretold.
Yes, this is he who ruled a world of men
As might some prophet of the elder day —
Brooding above the tempest and the fray
With deep-eyed thought and more than mortal ken.
A power was his beyond the touch of art
Or armed strength — his pure and mighty heart.
Richard Watson Gilder.

THE PORTRAITS OF LINCOLN

THE PORTRAITS OF
LINCOLN

T is the popular belief, the world
over, that Abraham Lincoln was
in face and figure, in action or
repose, an ugly man. It is doubt
ful if any human being known to
history has been the subject of
such complete and reiterated description, by high
and low, friend and enemy; and the vocabulary
employed to describe him includes about every
word in common use in the English language, the
meaning of which is opposed to anything admir
able, elegant, beautiful, or refined. The words used
to set forth the physical appearance of this per
sonage, now rated by imposing fame as one of the
Great of the Earth, gather when assembled a new
and affecting interest.
From the time Abraham Lincoln was fourteen
years of age, then more than six feet high and
weighing about one hundred and sixty pounds,
until he was nominated for the Presidency, he
was locally known by the following pleasing char-

8 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
acterizations : "angular," "ungainly," "clumsy,"
"gaunt;" "awkward," "thin," "leggy," "gawky ;"
"gigantic," "solemn visaged," "beardless clodhop
per;" "uncouth," "half-clad boor, whose heavy
features were flabby, lifeless, and deeply furrowed; "
"a homely, lank, long, dried-up, bony-armed man,
with leathery face, shrivelled and yellow; " "long-
limbed, brawny-handed, queer-looking old fellow,
with prominent features, dull and expressionless; "
"rough-looking backwoodsman with a wiry, raw-
boned, tall frame and ganglion legs." His clothes
and his unconventional movements and manners
have received a similar unflattering description.
During Lincoln's stumping tours near home or
in the neighboring states, his personal appearance
received its accustomed attention. In Michigan,
in 1856, talking for Fremont, he was known as the
"Long Sucker of Illinois; " in Ohio, the "Giant
ofthe Sangamon Bottoms;" and farther west, the
" Illinois Rail Splitter," and other suggestive names.
Lincoln himself was not impressed with his own
beauty, and often referred, throughout his life, to
his physical plainness, though claiming that inside
he was as much of a gentleman as any one ; and even
Mrs. Lincoln called him an "ungainly" husband.
Joseph Medill, editor ofthe Chicago " Tribune,"

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 9
who was with Lincoln occasionally during the
Douglas debates, says that it was a standing joke
of his that there was one " homelier" man in Illi
nois than himself, and that was his friend Archie
Williams of Quincy, who, he said, had carried the
ugly man's jack-knife for twenty years without
meeting a successful competitor for it, and he reck
oned Archie would carry it as long as he lived,
though when he died it would descend to himself.
But Lincoln got his jack-knife before death got
Archie. "I was accosted on the cars," so he told
the story, "by a stranger, who said, < Excuse me,
sir, I have an article in my possession which be
longs to you.' 'How is that?' I asked, consider
ably astonished. The stranger took a jack-knife
from his pocket. l This knife,' he said, < was placed
in my hands some years ago, with the injunction
that I was to keep it until I found a man uglier
than myself. I have to say, sir, that I think you
are fairly entitled to the property.' "
Only once in his life, perhaps, did Lincoln be
come painfully conscious of the miserable appear
ance of his clothes, and that was when he came to
New York in i860 to make his Cooper Institute
speech. He brought with him a new suit of black
and wore it when he was waited upon by the re-

io ABRAHAM LINCOLN
presentatives of the Republican Club. He noticed
the difference between their well-cut, smooth-
fitting garments and his ill-fitting and badly
wrinkled ones, and spoke of it freely to them.
On his return to Springfield he told Herndon,his
law partner, that for some time after he began his
speech, and until he became warmed up, he im
agined that the audience were noticing the con
trast between his rude Western clothes and the
neat and well-made suits of Mr. Bryant and others
who sat on the platform. But this annoyance was
of short duration, and he made no effort while
in the East to improve his appearance.
As a Presidential candidate Lincoln appeared
to the country an untoward being in face, figure,
and movement. The recorded observations of
the President's personal appearance from the
time he arrived in Washington until his death,
made by an ever-increasing number and almost
indescribable diversity of people, corroborated
Western observation, giving no indication that
the older East saw differently from the younger
West. And so, in consequence, while the feeling
of Lincoln's rare and superior worth as a man
has steadily increased since his death, with start
ling strides and unexpected surprises, his personal

ABRAHAM LINCOLN n
appearance as it was first described has gone into
unquestioned history. Biographers, statesmen,
scholars, and writers have echoed ordinary ob
servers with such persistence that it would seem
that they took delight in trying to heighten the in
congruous contrast between the outward and the
inward man.
Lowell, in the " North American Review " for
January, 1 864, apologized for Lincoln's not being
handsome or elegant, and at the close of the
article called him homely and awkward. In his
" Commemoration Ode," while fully recognizing
the high character of the first American, he says
that " they (the people) knew that outward grace
is dust." In his Birmingham address he again al
ludes to this contrast, remarking: "But democra
cies have likewise their finer instincts. I have
also seen the wisest statesman and most pregnant
speaker of our generation, a man of humble birth
and ungainly manners, of little culture beyond
what his own genius supplied, become more ab
solute in power than any monarch of modern
times, through the reverence of his countrymen
for his honesty, his wisdom, his sincerity, his faith
in God and man, and the nobly humane sim
plicity of his character."

12 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
Almost the only person who has publicly writ
ten against the popular belief concerning Lin
coln's personal appearance is Hon. J. G. Nicolay,
the President's private secretary and subsequent
co-biographer. He says that to him " there was neither oddity,
eccentricity, awkwardness, or grotesqueness in his
face, figure, or movement ; " that, on the contrary,
he was prepossessing in appearance when the en
tire man was fairly considered, mentally and phy
sically, his unusual height and proportion, and the
general movement of body and mind.
He also states that Lincoln's "walk was vigor
ous, elastic, easy, rather quick, firm, and digni
fied ; no shuffling or hesitating ; he had a large
swing in his movement; and when enunciating
a great thought that he wished to impress upon
his hearers he would straighten up to an impres
sive height."
Mr. Nicolay gives this as his impression of Lin
coln's appearance without seeking to corroborate
it by any fact of physical construction. If the
words quoted at the beginning of this paper were
to be taken, as they have been by the world, as
final and conclusive, and there were nothing else
than the uncorroborated opinion of Mr. Nicolay

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 13
to assist in further examination, there would be
no way out of the belief that Lincoln was an
" awfully homely " man, — a human frame cruelly
proportioned, with articulations orderless, aim
less, and unpleasant, housing a wonderful heart
and mind. But the truth is that these words were,
in the large majority of cases, only parts of sen
tences, or parts of a thoughtless general summing
up ofthe personal appearance of the man, while the
other parts included words indicative of beauti
ful physical qualities, or statements of mental and
physical relationships, admirable, significant, and
suggestive. Nor are these desirable qualities and relation
ships isolated ones, peculiar to or only affecting
single members of the body; they are intimately
connected with the whole physical structure, and
furnish evidence that it was different from the
physique first described. The excellences of
Lincoln's appearance may be classed under two
heads, — facial expression and general movement
of the body.
The following descriptions of Lincoln's eyes
were spoken or written without qualification, and
are taken from a large number of sources, many
of them being the recollections of women: —

14 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
« Soft, tender, bluish eyes ; ' " two bright,
dreamy eyes that seem to gaze through you with
out looking at you ; " " patient, loving eyes ; '
" the kindest eyes ever placed in mortal head ; '
" His eyes had an expression impossible to de
scribe, as though they lay in deep caverns, ready
to spring out at an instant call ; " " His gray
eyes would flash fire when speaking against slav
ery, or look volumes of love when speaking of
liberty, justice, and the progress of mankind;"
"His eyes had a far-away look;' "The saddest
face that ever was seen — sadness seemed to drip
from him as he walked ; ' "A sad, preoccupied,
far-away look, so intense that he seemed to be in a
trance;" "Inexpressible sadness in his eyes, with
a far-away look, as if they were searching for
something they had seen long, long years ago;"
"Melancholy eyes that seemed to wander far
away." The rapid change of expression in Lincoln's
eyes and face is thus set forth: —
"His little gray eyes flashed in a face aglow
with the fire of his profound thoughts, and his
uneasy movements and diffident manner sunk
themselves beneath the waves of righteous indig
nation that came sweeping over him." "His eyes

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 15
flashed fire, he was no longer homely and un
gainly, his whole appearance changed in an in
stant, his body was transformed, and his face was
lighted with a mysterious inner light." "His
eyes flashed with pleasure, and his sad counte
nance lighted up and became almost beautiful."
"The dull, listless expression dropped like a mask.
The melancholy shadow disappeared in a twink
ling. The eyes began to sparkle, the mouth to
smile, and the whole countenance was wreathed
in animation." " When affected by humor, sympa
thy, or admiration for some heroic deed or sacri
fice for the right, his face changed in an instant,
the hard lines faded out of it, and the emotion
seemed to diffuse itself all over him. His sad face
of a sudden became radiant; he seemed like one
inspired." Several of Lincoln's friends to whom I wrote
for early photographs of him answered that they
had none, because no picture represented the light
that was in his eyes when he was listening or speak
ing, and in such aspects alone did they wish to
remember him. And one added, " It was then
only that he was in the world."
Of Lincoln's naturalness, native dignity, and
grace, this is said : —

1 6 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
" He had perfect naturalness, a native grace
which never failed to shine through his words and
acts." " He had the gentleness of the unspoiled
child of nature." " He had a dignity of bearing
and character that commanded respect." " Nat
ural grandeur of demeanor." "A natural gen
tleman." "He had a wonderful countenance,
easy dignity, and ever-present tact." " He always
maintained a singular dignity and reserve with
out the least effort." " He was awkward, but it
was the awkwardness of nature, which is akin to
grace." When I asked a Boston man, the closest ob
server in matters of men and art I ever knew, if
he thought, as most people did, that Lincoln was
awkward, he replied : " Yes, he was awkward, but
with an elegance that a king might envy and com
mon men despise. He moved with an ease that
was in the highest degree impressive, and with
a grace of nature that would have become a
woman." There is no difference of opinion in regard to
the change that came over Lincoln's appearance
from the time he began to address an audience
until he became warmed up. At first he ap
peared awkward, diffident, and uneasy; but as soon

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 17
as he got hold of his subject, or it had got hold
of him, he was another man. He seemed in
spired, and was immensely imposing and dignified.
He is thus described : " The act of expressing a
great sentiment or concluding a fine period trans
formed Lincoln's awkwardness, uncouthness, and
boorishness into beauty and nobility of bearing.
In making a speech on a subject that deeply
interested him, he often quivered all over with
emotion, nearly stifling his utterance."
Of Lincoln's stretching-up capacity, or vertical
elasticity, there is also no difference of opinion,
and this, as the artist knows, is a quality marked
only in people of the highest physical construc
tion. That he could stretch up to an unwonted
height, or appear to do so, is well authenticated.
In interesting conjunction with Lincoln's facial
and physical transformations, — the ready expres
sion of a rich and sensitive emotional nature, —
may be placed his great muscular strength and
activity, and the terrible character of his anger
when aroused by injustice to himself or to a friend,
though he was averse to any combative exercise of
his strength save in a friendly wrestle, or to help
some one in trouble.
Now we come to the crucial questions : Do

1 8 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
not the beautiful character of Lincoln's eyes, the
sudden and peculiarly impressive change in his
facial expression, his unusual power of stretch
ing up, or vertical elasticity, and the rapidity and
strength of his bodily movement, suggest the idea
that there were admirable qualities in his physi
cal make-up not included in the popular belief?
It seems to me that these things suggest a splen
didly sensitive, responsive, and powerful system
of nerves ; a muscular organization of a rare and
superior kind; and that instead of high intel
lectual and emotional qualities incased in an ill-
assorted body, it will be found that there was an
admirable body, and a deep harmony between
the outer and inner man. An examination of
the portraits of Lincoln will help to make this
apparent. It is doubtful if any personage in history has
had as many portraits made from life in the short
space of seven years — by human workers in oil
and clay, by sunlight in photographs, ambrotypes,
and tintypes — as Abraham Lincoln. It began
during the Douglas debates in 1858, became a
campaign necessity in Springfield the second day
after his nomination, and continued almost with-

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN 19
out interruption until forty days before he breathed
his last.
Mr. L. W. Volk, a Chicago sculptor, was the
first artist to whom Lincoln sat for his portrait, —
a bust, — finished a month or two before the Chi
cago convention. An event occurred in the pro
gress of making this bust that may be justly called
the second most important one in the history of
American portraiture, — the taking of a most per
fect mask of the future President's face, — the
other being a like process with the face of Wash
ington in 1785, by the French sculptor Houdon.
This Lincoln mask is the first reliable contri
bution to the material upon which a safe exami
nation ofthe forms of his face can be made. The
photographs, ambrotypes, and tintypes made be
fore and after he became President are also valu
able contributions. Those, with casts of both his
hands, taken a few days after his nomination, com
plete what there is of unquestionable material by
which to judge of the character of Lincoln's face,
figure, and physical movement.
It is to Frenchmen that the credit of first see
ing the true beauty of the life mask, of appreciat
ing it and describing it, is due. When, in 1877,
I took a plaster copy to the oldest bronze founder

20 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
in Paris, to get it cast in bronze, I put it down
on a table side by side with a mask of the Abbe
Lamennais. The first words of the founder were:
"What a beautiful face! Why, it's more beauti
ful and has more character than the Abbe's, and
we think that is the handsomest one in France!
What an extraordinary construction, and what
fine forms it has ! " Then he asked who it was,
and added, "I shall take pleasure in showing it
to So-and-so," naming several of the principal
sculptors in Paris for whom he did work.
Some weeks after, when I went to get the
bronze copy, the founder told me that these sculp
tors and others had seen the Lincoln mask and ex
pressed themselves in the most appreciative terms
of what they saw in it. Here in substance is what
they said: "It is unusual in general construction, it
has a new and interesting character, and its planes
are remarkably beautiful and subtle. If it belongs
to any type, and we know of none such, it must
be a wonderful specimen of that type." Like
things were said of it by other French artists, as
I took pains to show it for examination. I lent
the mask and a number of Lincoln photographs
to the best French genre sculptor of modern times,
for several months, for him to see what he could

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 21
get out of it in making a face in clay. When he
got through he made these observations : " I can
do nothing with that head, and I doubt if any
one in these times can. The more I studied it,
the more difficulties I found. The subtle charac
ter of its forms is beyond belief. There is no face
like it."
Fremiet was particularly interested. He said,
among other things : "It seems impossible that
a new country like yours should produce such a
face. It is unique." Then he asked, " Do you
know anything about the physique of your mar
tyr President? He must have been tall and slim,
having little flesh, and very alert in action." As
I was then making some sketches of a statuette,
based upon a very little knowledge of Lincoln's
physical appearance, Fremiet' s suggestions were
of great value, for I knew him to be a learned
ethnologist. He then recommended me to get
for a model a man of the neighborhood who was
tall and slim, but very compactly built. His height
was six feet, four inches, — the same, I learned
long afterwards, as that of Lincoln. At the close
of our conversation, Fremiet said, " You have in
hand a wonderfully interesting subject. I envy
you."

22 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
No word was uttered or suggested by any of
these persons indicating consideration of the mask
from a popular, or so-called " classic," point of
view ; it was invariably looked at from the point
of view of individuaLcharacter, as an original and
interesting piece of facial construction, and ad
mired for the harmony of the face with itself.
There was no reference to ugliness, coarseness, or
flabbiness of form. It was the same with the pho
tographs shown to them.
A short detailed review of the mask would be
something like this: a projecting face with un
usual vigor and contrasts of planes; long, large,
protruding ears; strong, angular lower jaw, and
high chin; all lines of face muscular or bony,
strongly, firmly, and delicately marked ; the fore
head wrinkled to the roots of the hair ; the full
ness above and immediately back of the temples
very rich and firm, giving not only an important
contrast to the line of the face below, but finish
ing that part of the head with a commanding form
and outline.
The profile is also unusual, in the character of.
the lines and in their construction: first, the full
line of the forehead, carried from the top of the
nose upward; second, the projecting nose, prac-

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'*-if6;.4.n '£¦

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 23
tically straight, and the distance from its end
back to the upper lip, which is rather more than
an eighth of an inch greater than with ordinary
noses. The nose is thick in its body and wide on
the top when looked at in front, and thus helps
to make a harmonious face, because it catches so
much light. The distance from the top of the
nose, when seen in profile, to the inner corner
of the eye, is again unusual. The end of the nose
appears almost blunt, but its outline, when care
fully examined, is very delicate. The skin, so far
as can be judged from a somewhat worn mask, is
not marked into small sections as in most skins,
but is comparatively smooth, and indented with
little holes, like enlarged pores. The firmness of
the skin and muscles is evidenced by the correct
ness of the forms of the mask, as there is not the
slightest indication that there was any change in
them made by the weight of the plaster. The
surface-forms of the forehead present an extraor
dinary variety, many of them being very subtle,
yet decisive, and running into each other with a
delicacy rarely seen in foreheads of males. It was
this peculiarity and variety of forms of the entire
face that made it difficult for the French sculptor
to reproduce.

24 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
The skin accords with Herndon's statement
that it had a smooth and leathery surface. It is
this kind of skin that gives such incisive direct
ness and decision to all the lines of the face. They
have a character all their own. This fact is more
evident in the stronger lines, such as those running
down from the wings of the nose, and the sunken
ones just back of them. In contrast to these lines
may be noticed a dullness of form about the
wings of the nose.
The mask is especially living, in that it strongly
suggests Lincoln's undemonstrative self-conscious
ness, as well as a knightly readiness, seen in the pho
tographs taken immediately after his nomination
for the Presidency. The bronze copy shows these
qualities with pleasing gravity. There is another
rare quality about it, as it bears the marks of both
youth and age. Lincoln was in his fifty-second
year. The mask is in short a perfect reproduc
tion of Lincoln's face, and greatly beautiful in its
human style and gravity.
The large, thick, and protruding under lip in
jures the general harmony and delicacy ofthe face
in the estimation of some keen observers, though
not disturbing or lessening the very sensitive line
of mouth. These persons connect this feature with

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 25
Lincoln's lack of sensibility in many matters, his
absolute indifference to art, to the nicer comforts
of physical life, and with a certain want of delicacy
in observing the minor customs of a refined state
of society. In other words, they interpret it as his
face-mark of a certain physical obtuseness. Were
it not for the high, firm chin, powerful jaw, and
decided upper lip, all forming a well-proportioned
combination, and thus reducing the lower lip to a
less obtrusive effect, this member of the face would
indeed seem unpleasantly large. Still, it is to be
remembered that the right kind of a thick lower
lip is a physiognomical mark of sensitiveness and
tenderness of nature.
The Lincoln mask, as may be seen herein, does
not lose in character by a comparison with the pro
file view of Washington. The force of Lincoln's
individuality in such a connection is alone suffi
cient to stamp it as a wonderful one. Washing
ton's head is a perfect example of its type.
The casts of Lincoln's hands were made a few
days after his nomination for the Presidency.
They are large, long hands. The first phalanx of
the middle finger is nearly half an inch longer than
that of an ordinary hand. The bones are finely
shaped, not unusually large, muscles thin, strongly

26 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
defined in their own construction and in their re
lations, finger nails of good form and of ordinary
length. The joints are very supple. Were it not
for the length ofthe fingers, the shape of the nails,
the resemblance of the knuckles and the move
ment of the muscles on the inside of the right
hand, one would doubt that it was the mate of
the other. In contrast and variety of form, the left
hand is as fine and original as is the mask; and
both mask and hands are distinguished for exacti
tude of form.
The action ofthe folded fingers ofthe left hand is
particularly noticeable, because it is so definite and
complete, made with a purpose. This seemingly
minor detail is, after all, representative of Lincoln's
whole nature. It is an habitual one, as is the ten
dency to fold in the fingers. This concentration,
or keeping together of the members of the body,
is seen in nearly every one of the sixty portraits
from life.
There is an extra fullness of the back of the
right hand, in spite of the firm grip on the object
it holds, caused, Mr. Volk says, by shaking hands
with several hundreds of people just before the
cast was made.
Nearest physiognomically to the mask are two

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 27
photographs, taken at different times, one a little
more and the other a little less than profile.* Ex
cept for the nose and the way the head sets on the
neck and shoulders, these heads would hardly be
taken as belonging to the same person. There are
only four measurements that distinguish Lincoln's
head and face from any other good head and face.
First, the distance from the end of the nose back
to the upper lip; second, the length and depth
of the mouth from the profile line backwards;
third, the distance from the wing of the nose up
to the inside corner of the eye ; and fourth, from
the eye up to a horizontal line passing through
both eyebrows. All these measurements are im
portant and significant. The distance from the
top ofthe nose just below where it joins the fore
head, down to the inside corner of the eye, is a
noticeable measurement. Another constructive
distinction of Lincoln's face consists in the slight
setting forward of the upper two thirds of the
profile, beyond that found in most good faces, —
one of the structural reasons for the superiority
of the best Greek faces over all others. These,
with the heavy, projecting, and easily moving
eyebrows, make a combination of distances and
1 See page 94.

28 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
forms of imposing distinction. All these construc
tive effects strike the observer unconsciously, and
emphasize the effect of the eyes themselves. The
appearance, to the ordinary observer, of "deep-
set eyes " is due more to the unusual fullness and
fine forms around than to their being further back
than in most countenances. When we add to this
their extraordinary emotional action, we get some
explanation of their wonderful effect, so often
described, upon the most casual observer. We
shall appreciate this part of Lincoln's face more
fully in the front-view photographs.
It is not alone the measurements but the char
acter of the forms between them that make Lin
coln's face and head unique. The prominence of
the cheek bones is due more to an absence of fat
and full muscle than to unusual size of bone. The
character ofthe facial muscles, thin, firm, and elas
tic, is in accordance with Lincoln's lightweight for
a man of his height, — from one hundred and sixty
to one hundred and eighty pounds, — his great
strength and quickness of movement when excited,
and his actual muscular construction as given by
Herndon, which the latter called, with a good deal
of truth, a set of sinews, or extended tendons. It
all indicates economy of construction, and agrees

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 29
with the descriptions given of the economical
workings of his mind.
The best front view of Lincoln is from a photo
graph asserted to have been taken March 9, 1 864,1
at the same time a similar view was made of Grant's
face, and on the afternoon of the day that the lat
ter received his commission as Lieutenant-General.
As a whole it is probably the most impressively
proportioned picture ever taken of Lincoln. It is
all strange, in no respect like any other head. It
is a large one, not in inches, but in construction,
— a head that will hold its own in space, in the
open air. In this rare respect it belongs to the few
faces that are inherently decorative. It must be
estimated by a standard authorized by itself. No
such eyes were ever seen in mortal head, and no
such setting was ever given to any other eyes. In
all the photographs we see that the eyes and their
framework confirm this statement. Careful ob
servation shows that the muscles and skin around
the eyes are very tender and sensitive, which may
partly account for their unusual action in express
ing emotion.
One of his most interesting photographs is that
taken seated on the 2d of November, the Sunday
1 See page 1 10.

30 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
before the delivery of the Gettysburg speech.1
On the table at hand is a paper containing Ever
ett's oration. Until I saw this photograph in Wash
ington,^ December, 1 8 74, 1 supposed that Lincoln
was as popularly described. When I first saw it I
was amazed at the difference between it and cur
rent tradition. It struck me as the most original,
easy, dignified, and impressive representation of a
man in a sitting position I had ever seen. Years
of looking at it and studying it in comparison
with many others of the eminent men of mod
ern times have confirmed that impression. Still
greater confirmation I found in the opinions of
three of the greatest sculptors of modern times,
— Fremiet, Rodin, and Aube ; they were aston
ished at its original and imposing presence. "It
is a new man; he has tremendous character,"
they said. Everything about this picture is sur
prisingly suggestive and admirable. The head in
its massiveness, the way it is poised on the shoul
ders, the lines of the legs and arms, and especially
the bend of the body, in spite of the coverings,
are firm, fine, and easy. The kneepans are not
over large or shapeless, nor do the hands show any
incongruity in mass, line, or movement. There is
1 See frontispiece.

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN 31
nothing in the hang ofthe clothes or their lines and
folds that indicates anything but a well-shaped
form beneath. No monarch ever sat with more
natural grace and dignity.
The simple, easy line of the hand on the table,
and that made by the foot and leg and the bend of
the knee, suggest quite the opposite of clumsy and
awkwardly constructed or moving articulations.
It is a great portrait, — a great ready-made statue
or picture. As such it ranks with the best portraits
in any art, and as far as I know it is absolutely
unique ; again, as such, it means that Lincoln's
mind and body not only worked together in per
fect physical harmony, but exemplified a dignified
and gracious ease. He made his own statue. It
is his actual presence, the very life of the man.
A statue is no more or less than a study of physi
ognomy with reference to the effect of light upon
it as reproduced in marble, stone, or bronze.
Lincoln is dressed in modern costume, a costume
condemned by every one, and especially when re
produced in sculpture. Yet I doubt if one person in
a thousand would think ofthe costume when look
ing at this portrait. The simple fact is that Lincoln's
body completely dominates his clothes, and would
continue to do so in sculpture if properly executed.

32 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
There are many other significant details in this
sitting portrait, of which a few may be mentioned.
The legs are kept well together. Every action of
legs, arms, hands, and feet is decisive, completing
its intention, and all in natural harmony. This is
a very important and significant fact, so much so
that it may be taken as an ample starting-point
for a full consideration of Lincoln's intellectual
construction. So definite is the completion of in
tention that the right foot is placed fully upon the
floor, and the full length of the other foot is also
prone upon the floor. The position of these feet
shows not only a flexible but a well-formed articu
lation. This flexibility of ankle joints permits the
left foot to fall down, and thus not only saves it
from being awkward by pointing up into the air,
as nine hundred and ninety-nine feet in a thou
sand would do, but makes a fine line in connection
with the leg. The size and character of Lincoln's
feet, as shown through his boots, are in admirable
accord with his body. They are well and forcibly
formed, and of noticeable importance as a con
structive fact.
In none of the sitting views is there any sign
of a disposition to sprawl or spread around, as the
majority of men do when sitting. No member,

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 33
like the hands, for instance, is obtrusive. These
facts indicate natural elegance, high style in bod
ily action, and a concentrative physical economy
in accordance with the beauty and character of
Lincoln's mind.
The photograph of Lincoln and Little Tad 1
shows the President's great style of hand and its
splendid articulation with the wrist. A hand fit
not only for the first and greatest American, but
in every way worthy to write, as he did, literature
that is nothing less than biblical in its majestic
simplicity. This view obviously depicts a per
fectly natural position, taken by Lincoln without
the aid of the photographer. He is completely
together, unconscious, and absolutely indifferent
to anything outside of himself.
From a point of view of physical and mental
harmony of an unobtrusive and self-centred kind,
its simple variety and contrast of planes betoken
ing to an extreme the humble character of the
man, the photograph of Lincoln in McCleUan's
tent 2 is, to me, the most unusual and strangely
interesting of all the pictures ever taken of him
in a sitting position. It is an extreme illustration
of good physical centralization. If the first sitting
' See page 122. 2 See page 82.

34 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
photograph that we have examined is as a ready-
made statue, marvelous in its composition and
more than kingly in its ease and dignity, this one
is sculpturesque in its perfection as a bas-relief.
Yet how humanly expressive it is in the simplicity
and directness of the attention which the Presi
dent is bestowing upon his companion. An essay
could be written about it.
The world's great statues and figure-pieces in
painting are made like great orations, great poems,
and great judicial disquisitions, upon the lines,
and in harmony with the authoritative divisions, of
their subjects. Like all high, inspired productions,
they hide themselves save to the deep and sincere
student. The sitting photographs of Lincoln that
we have rapidly examined are akin to them, and
merit the same grave scientific and artistic con
sideration. We shall now examine some photographs that
will tax our best discrimination and appeal to
our most considerate judgment, — pictures of
such extraordinary significance that, to justly
understand and appreciate them, we shall be
obliged to put aside our habitual standard of
judgment and pay tribute to the inherent au
thority of their own physical and mental con-

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 35
struction. They represent the President at An
tietam headquarters.1
These photographs, with two others that we
shall consider, are the only ones known to be in
existence showing him at full length in a standing
position. At first sight Lincoln appears strange and even
grotesque, with his unusual height, narrow shoul
ders, long arms hanging so listlessly by his sides,
and that oddest of tall hats. The great majority
of people would be strongly tempted to laugh at
this strange figure standing there so absolutely
alone. Few, if any, would think of making it a
subject of careful study, or in any way regarding
it as vitally related to the intellectual and human
frame of one of the most wonderful beings that
has appeared upon the earth, — a weird and mys
terious being, who came into the world against
convention, who performed functions as unique as
they were far-reaching, and who left the world by
the old mysteriously cruel road so often trod by
its noblest.
He reminds one ofthe isolated figures in archaic
sculpture, — straight, stiff, and uninteresting. But
if we examine closely, we shall see that Lincoln's
1 See pages 70, 88.

36 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
position is not only the sum of simplicity, but
that his straightness is easy and unconscious, — all
again illustrating the economy of his bodily action,
the natural tendency toward the simplest move
ments, and a reliance upon himself. Even when
excited in speaking, he made few gestures, so few
that many say he made none. In walking there
were no useless movements, and in sitting he got
himself closely together, as we have already seen.
Herndon, who studied his partner with more per
sistence than any one, says that he always stood
squarely on both feet, both legs under him, never
one ahead of the other, and that he never leaned
on or touched anything while speaking. In this
also the body of Lincoln was in harmony with his
mental action. These figures are the most inter
esting ones I have ever seen of a man standing.
The pictures of Lincoln at Antietam, and with
the Generals of the Army of the Potomac, give a
sufficient opportunity to compare Lincoln's un
conscious simplicity of vertical structure and pose
with a dozen or more generals and civilians, not
one of whom is not more or less conscious, and
trying without success to stand well.
An added and almost pathetic interest gathers
around this form when seen isolated from any

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 37
other. Its suggestiveness multiplies until it be
comes a text for a discourse upon the entire char
acter of the man, its sadness, its pathos, its isola
tion. It seems like a solitary dolmen in a deserted
and barren plain, that has withstood the ravaging
decay of centuries. As Lincoln's whole nature
presents to history the most intricate and mys
terious individual problem, so the photographs
we have seen represent the only new physical
organization of which we have any correct know
ledge contributed by the New World to the eth
nographic consideration of mankind.
Truman H. Bartlett.

THE HAND OF LINCOLN

y

THE HAND OF LINCOLN
Look on this cast, and know the hand
That bore a nation in its hold :
From this mute witness understand
What Lincoln was, — how large of mould
The man who sped the woodman's team,
And deepest sunk the ploughman's share,
And pushed the laden raft astream,
Of fate before him unaware.
This was the hand that knew to swing
The axe — since thus would Freedom train
Her son — and made the forest ring,
And drove the wedge, and toiled amain.
Firm hand, that loftier office took,
A conscious leader's will obeyed,
And, when men sought his word and look,
With steadfast might the gathering swayed.
No courtier's, toying with a sword,
Nor minstrel's, laid across a lute ;
A chief's, uplifted to the Lord
When all the kings of earth were mute !
The hand of Anak, sinewed strong,
The fingers that on greatness clutch ;
Yet, lo ! the marks their lines along
Of one who strove and suffered much.

42 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
For here in knotted cord and vein
I trace the varying chart of years ;
I know the troubled heart, the strain,
The weight of Atlas — and the tears.
Again I see the patient brow
That palm erewhile was wont to press ;
And now 'tis furrowed deep, and now
Made smooth with hope and tenderness.
For something of a formless grace
This moulded outline plays about ;
A pitying flame, beyond our trace,
Breathes like a spirit, in and out, —
The love that cast an aureole
Round one who, longer to endure,
Called mirth to ease his ceaseless dole,
Yet kept his nobler purpose sure.
Lo, as I gaze, the statured man,
Built up from yon large hand, appears :
A type that Nature wills to plan
But once in all a people's years.
What better than this voiceless cast
To tell of such a one as he,
Since through its living semblance passed
The thought that bade a race be free !
Edmund Clarence Stedman.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN
A BIOGRAPHICAL ESSAY

ABRAHAM LINCOLN

O American can study the char
acter and career of Abraham
Lincoln without being car
ried away by sentimental emo
tions. We are always inclined
to idealize that which we love,
— a state of mind very unfavorable to the exer
cise of sober critical judgment. It is therefore not
surprising that most of those who have written or
spoken on that extraordinary man, even while con
scientiously endeavoring to draw a lifelike por
traiture of his being, and to form a just estimate of
his public conduct, should have drifted into more
or less indiscriminating eulogy, painting his great
features in the most glowing colors, and covering
with tender shadings whatever might look like a
blemish. But his standing before posterity will not be
exalted by mere praise of his virtues and abilities,
nor by any concealment of his limitations and
faults. The stature ofthe great man, one of whose
peculiar charms consisted in his being so unlike

46 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
all other great men, will rather lose than gain by
the idealization which so easily runs into the com
monplace. For it was distinctly the weird mixture
of qualities and forces in him, of the lofty with
the common, the ideal with the uncouth, of that
which he had become with that which he had not
ceased to be, that made him so fascinating a char
acter among his fellow men, gave him his singular
power over their minds and hearts, and fitted him
to be the greatest leader in the greatest crisis of
our national life.
His was indeed a marvelous growth. The states
man or the military hero born and reared in a log
cabin is a familiar figure in American history ; but
we may search in vain among our celebrities for
one whose origin and early life equaled Abraham
Lincoln's in wretchedness. He first saw the light
in a miserable hovel in Kentucky, on a farm con
sisting of a few barren acres in a dreary neighbor
hood ; his father a typical " poor Southern white,"
shiftless and improvident, without ambition for
himself or his children, constantly looking for a
new piece of land on which he might make a liv
ing without much work ; his mother, in her youth
handsome and bright, grown prematurely coarse
in feature and soured in mind by daily toil and

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 47
care; the whole household squalid, cheerless, and
utterly void of elevating inspirations. Only when
the family had " moved " into the malarious back
woods of Indiana, the mother had died, and a
stepmother, a woman of thrift and energy, had
taken charge of the children, the shaggy-headed,
ragged, barefooted, forlorn boy, then seven years
old, " began to feel like a human being." Hard
work was his early lot. When a mere boy he had
to help in supporting the family, either on his
father's clearing, or hired out to other farmers to
plough, or dig ditches, or chop wood, or drive ox
teams ; occasionally also to "tend the baby " when
the farmer's wife was otherwise engaged. He could
regard it as an advancement to a higher sphere of
activity when he obtained work in a "cross-roads
store," where he amused the customers by his talk
over the counter; for he soon distinguished him
self among the backwoods folk as one who had
something to say worth listening to. To win that
distinction, he had to draw mainly upon his wits ;
for while his thirst for knowledge was great, his
opportunities for satisfying that thirst were woe
fully slender.
In the log schoolhouse, which he could visit
but little, he was taught only reading, writing, and

48 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
elementary arithmetic. Among the people of the
settlement, bush farmers and small tradesmen, he
found none of uncommon intelligence or educa
tion ; but some of them had a few books, which
he borrowed eagerly. Thus he read and re-read
iEsop's Fables, learning to tell stories with a point
and to argue by parables ; he read Robinson Cru
soe, The Pilgrim's Progress, a short history of the
United States, and Weems's Life of Washington.
To the town constable's he went to read the Re
vised Statutes of Indiana. Every printed page that
fell into his hands he would greedily devour, and
his family and friends watched him with wonder,
as the uncouth boy, after his daily work, crouched
in a corner of the log cabin or outside under a
tree, absorbed in a book while munching his sup
per of corn bread. In this manner he began to
gather some knowledge, and sometimes he would
astonish the girls with such startling remarks as
that the earth was moving around the sun, and
not the sun around the earth, and they marveled
where "Abe " could have got such queer notions.
Soon he also felt the impulse to write, not only
making extracts from books he wished to remem
ber, but also composing little essays of his own.
First he sketched these with charcoal on a wooden

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 49
shovel scraped white with a drawing-knife, or on
basswood shingles. Then he transferred them to
paper, which was a scarce commodity in the Lin
coln household, taking care to cut his expressions
close, so that they might not cover too much space,
— a style-forming method greatly to be com
mended. Seeing boys put a burning coal on the
back of a wood turtle, he was moved to write on
cruelty to animals. Seeing men intoxicated with
whiskey, he wrote on temperance. In verse-mak
ing, too, he tried himself, and in satire on persons
offensive to him or others, — satire the rustic wit
of which was not always fit for ears polite. Also
political thoughts he put upon paper, and some
of his pieces were even deemed good enough for
publication in the county weekly.
Thus he won a neighborhood reputation as
a clever young man, which he increased by his
performances as a speaker, not seldom drawing
upon himself the dissatisfaction of his employers
by mounting a stump in the field, and keeping
the farm hands from their work by little speeches
in a jocose and sometimes also a serious vein. At
the rude social frolics of the settlement he became
an important person, telling funny stories, mimick
ing the itinerant preachers who had happened to

50 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
pass by, and making his mark at wrestling matches,
too ; for at the age of seventeen he had attained
his full height, six feet four inches in his stock
ings, if he had any, and a terribly muscular clod
hopper he was. But he was known never to use
his extraordinary strength to the injury or hu
miliation of others; rather to do them a kindly
turn, or to enforce justice and fair dealing between
them. All this made him a favorite in backwoods
society, although in some things he appeared a
little odd to his friends. Far more than any of
them, he was given, not only to reading, but to
fits of abstraction, to quiet musing with himself,
and also to strange spells of melancholy, from
which he often would pass in a moment to rollick
ing outbursts of droll humor. But on the whole
he was one of the people among whom he lived ;
in appearance perhaps even a little more uncouth
than most of them, — a very tall, rawboned youth,
with large features, dark, shriveled skin, and re
bellious hair ; his arms and legs long, out of pro
portion ; clad in deerskin trousers, which from
frequent exposure to the rain had shrunk so as to
sit tightly on his limbs, leaving several inches of
bluish shin exposed between their lower end and
the heavy tan-colored shoes ; the nether garment

.y/K^vc.

&y%j.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 51
held usually by only one suspender, that was
strung over a coarse home-made shirt; the head
covered in winter with a coonskin cap, in sum
mer with a rough straw hat of uncertain shape,
without a band.
It is doubtful whether he felt himself much
superior to his surroundings, although he con
fessed to a yearning for some knowledge of the
world outside of the circle in which he lived.
This wish was gratified ; but how ? At the age of
nineteen he went down the Mississippi to New
Orleans as a flatboat hand, temporarily joining a
trade many members of which at that time still
took pride in being called " half horse and half
alligator." After his return he worked and lived
in the old way until the spring of 1830, when his
father " moved again," this time to Illinois ; and
on the journey of fifteen days " Abe " had to drive
the ox wagon which carried the household goods.
Another log cabin was built, and then, fencing
a field, Abraham Lincoln split those historic rails
which were destined to play so picturesque a part
in the presidential campaign twenty-eight years
later. Having come of age, Lincoln left the family,
and "struck out for himself." He had "to take

52 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
jobs whenever he could get them." The first of
these carried him again as a flatboat hand to New
Orleans. There something happened that made
a lasting impression upon his soul: he witnessed
a slave auction. " His heart bled," wrote one of
his companions; "said nothing much; was silent;
looked bad. I can say, knowing it, that it was
on this trip that he formed his opinion on slavery.
It run its iron in him then and there, May, 1831.
I have heard him say so often." Then he lived
several years at New Salem, in Illinois, a small
mushroom village, with a mill, some "stores" and
whiskey shops, that rose quickly, and soon disap
peared again. It was a desolate, disjointed, half-
working, and half-loitering life, without any other
aim than to gain food and shelter from day to
day. He served as pilot on a steamboat trip, then
as clerk in a store and a mill; business failing, he
was adrift for some time. Being compelled to
measure his strength with the chief bully of the
neighborhood, and overcoming him, he became
a noted person in that muscular community, and
won the esteem and friendship of the ruling gang
of ruffians to such a degree that, when the Black
Hawk war broke out, they elected him, a young
man of twenty-three, captain of a volunteer com-

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 53
pany, composed mainly of roughs of their kind.
He took the field, and his most noteworthy deed
of valor consisted, not in killing an Indian, but in
protecting against his own men, at the peril of his
own life, the life of an old savage who had strayed
into his camp.
The Black Hawk war over, he turned to poli
tics. The step from the captaincy of a volunteer
company to a candidacy for a seat in the legisla
ture seemed a natural one. But his popularity,
although great in New Salem, had not spread
far enough over the district, and he was defeated.
Then the wretched hand-to-mouth struggle began
again. He "set up in store business" with a dis
solute partner, who drank whiskey while Lincoln
was reading books. The result was a disastrous
failure and a load of debt. Thereupon he became
a deputy surveyor, and was appointed postmaster
of New Salem, the business ofthe post-office being
so small that he could carry the incoming and
outgoing mail in his hat. All this could not lift
him from poverty, and his surveying instruments
and horse and saddle were sold by the sheriff for
debt. But while all this misery was upon him, his
ambition rose to higher aims. He walked many

54 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
miles to borrow from a schoolmaster a grammar
with which to improve his language. A lawyer
lent him a copy of Blackstone, and he began to
study law. People would look wonderingly at the
grotesque figure lying in the grass, "with his feet
up a tree," or sitting on a fence, as, absorbed in
a book, he learned to construct correct sentences
and made himself a jurist. At once he gained a
little practice, pettifogging before a justice of the
peace for friends, without expecting a fee. Judi
cial functions, too, were thrust upon him, but only
at horse-races or wrestling matches, where his ac
knowledged honesty and fairness gave his verdicts
undisputed authority. His popularity grew apace,
and soon he could be a candidate for the legisla
ture again. Although he called himself a Whig,
an ardent admirer of Henry Clay, his clever stump
speeches won him the election in the strongly
Democratic district. Then for the first time, per
haps, he thought seriously of his outward ap
pearance. So far he had been content with a garb
of " Kentucky jeans," not seldom ragged, usually
patched, and always shabby. Now he borrowed
some money from a friend to buy a new suit of
clothes — "store clothes" — fit for a Sangamon
County statesman; and thus adorned he set out

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 55
for the state capital, Vandalia, to take his seat among
the lawmakers.
His legislative career, which stretched over sev
eral sessions, for he was thrice reelected, in 1836,
1838, and 1 840, was not remarkably brilliant. He
did, indeed, not lack ambition. He dreamed even
of making himself " the De Witt Clinton of Illi
nois," and he actually distinguished himself by zeal
ous and effective work in those "log-rolling" opera
tions by which the young State received "a general
system, of internal improvements " in the shape of
railroads, canals, and banks, — a reckless policy,
burdening the State with debt, and producing the
usual crop of political demoralization, but a policy
characteristic of the time and the impatiently en
terprising spirit of the Western people. Lincoln,
no doubt with the best intentions, but with little
knowledge ofthe subject, simply followed the pop
ular current. The achievement in which, perhaps,
he gloried most was the removal of the state gov
ernment from Vandalia to Springfield, — one of
those triumphs of political management which are
apt to be the pride of the small politician's states
manship. One thing, however, he did in which his
true nature asserted itself, and which gave distinct
promise ofthe future pursuit of high aims. Against

56 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
an overwhelming preponderance of sentiment in
the legislature, followed by only one other mem
ber, he recorded his protest against a proslavery
resolution, — that protest declaring « the institu
tion of slavery to be founded on both injustice
and bad policy." This was not only the irrepres
sible voice of his conscience ; it was true moral
valor, too ; for at that time, in many parts of the
West, an abolitionist was regarded as little better
than a horse-thief, and even "Abe Lincoln" would
hardly have been forgiven his anti-slavery principles
had he not been known as such an "uncommon
good fellow." But here, in obedience to the great
conviction of his life, he manifested his courage
to stand alone, — that courage which is the first
requisite of leadership in a great cause.
Together with his reputation and influence as a
politician grew his law practice, especially after he
had removed from New Salem to Springfield, and
associated himself with a practitioner of good stand
ing. He had now at last won a fixed position in so
ciety. He became a successful lawyer, less, indeed,
by his learning as a jurist than by his effectiveness
as an advocate and by the striking uprightness of
his character; and it may truly be said that his vivid
sense of truth and justice had much to do with his

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 57
effectiveness as an advocate. He would refuse to
act as the attorney even of personal friends when he
saw the right on the other side. He would abandon
cases, even during trial, when the testimony con
vinced him that his client was in the wrong. He
would dissuade those who sought his service from
pursuing an obtainable advantage when their claims
seemed to him unfair. Presenting his very first case
in the United States Circuit Court, the only ques
tion being one of authority, he declared that, upon
careful examination, he found all the authorities on
the other side, and none on his. Persons accused
of crime, when he thought them guilty, he would
not defend at all, or, attempting their defense,
he was unable to put forth his powers. One nota
ble exception is on record, when his personal sym
pathies had been strongly aroused. But when he
felt himself to be the protector of innocence, the
defender of justice, or the prosecutor of wrong,
he frequently disclosed such unexpected resources
of reasoning, such depth of feeling, and rose to
such fervor of appeal as to astonish and overwhelm
his hearers and make him fairly irresistible. Even
an ordinary law argument, coming from him, sel
dom failed to produce the impression that he was
profoundly convinced ofthe soundness of his posi-

58 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
tion. It is not surprising that the mere appearance
of so conscientious an attorney in any case should
have carried, not only to juries, but even to judges,
almost a presumption of right on his side, and that
the people began to call him, sincerely meaning it,
"honest Abe Lincoln."
In the mean time he had private sorrows and
trials of a painfully afflicting nature. He had loved
and been loved by a fair and estimable girl, Ann
Rutledge, who died in the flower of her youth
and beauty, and he mourned her loss with such
intensity of grief that his friends feared for his
reason. Recovering from his morbid depression,
he bestowed what he thought a new affection upon
another lady, who refused him. And finally, mod
erately prosperous in his worldly affairs, and hav
ing prospects of political distinction before him,
he paid his addresses to Mary Todd, of Kentucky,
and was accepted. But then tormenting doubts
of the genuineness of his own affection for her, of
the compatibility of their characters, and of their
future happiness came upon him. His distress was
so great that he felt himself in danger of suicide,
and feared to carry a pocket-knife with him ; and
he gave mortal offense to his bride by not appearing
on the appointed wedding day. Now the tortur-

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 59
ing consciousness of the wrong he had done her
grew unendurable. He won back her affection,
ended the agony by marrying her, and became a
faithful and patient husband and a good father.
But it was no secret, to those who knew the family
well, that his domestic life was full of trials. The
erratic temper of his wife not seldom put the gen
tleness of his nature to the severest tests; and these
troubles and struggles, which accompanied him
through all the vicissitudes of his life from the
modest home in Springfield to the White House at
Washington, adding untold private heartburnings
to his public cares, and sometimes precipitating
upon him incredible embarrassments in the dis
charge of his public duties, form one of the most
pathetic features of his career.
He continued to « ride the circuit," read books
while traveling in his buggy, told funny stories to
his fellow lawyers in the tavern, chatted familiarly
with his neighbors around the stove in the store
and at the post-office, had his hours of melancholy
brooding as of old, and became more and more
widely known and trusted and beloved among the
people of his State for his ability as a lawyer and
politician, for the uprightness of his character, and
the ever-flowing spring of sympathetic kindness in

60 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
his heart. His main ambition was confessedly that
of political distinction ; but hardly any one would
at that time have seen in him the man destined to
lead the nation through the greatest crisis of the
century. His time had not yet come when, in 1846, he
was elected to Congress. In a clever speech in the
House of Representatives, he denounced President
Polk for having unjustly forced war upon Mexico,
and he amused the Committee of the Whole by
a witty attack upon General Cass. More impor
tant was the expression he gave to his anti-slavery
impulses by offering a bill looking to the emanci
pation of the slaves in the District of Columbia,
and by his repeated votes for the famous Wilmot
Proviso, intended to exclude slavery from the Ter
ritories acquired from Mexico. But when, at the
expiration of his term, in March, 1 849, he left his
seat, he gloomily despaired of ever seeing the day
when the cause nearest to his heart would be rightly
grasped by the people, and when he would be able
to render any service to his country in solving the
great problem. Nor had his career as a member of
Congress in any sense been such as to gratify his am
bition. Indeed, if he ever had any belief in a great
destiny for himself, it must have been weak at that

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 61
period ; for he actually sought to obtain from the
new Whig President, General Taylor, the place of
Commissioner of the General Land Office, willing
to bury himself in one ofthe administrative bureaus
of the government. Fortunately for the country,
he failed; and no less fortunately, when, later, the
territorial governorship of Oregon was offered to
him, Mrs. Lincoln's protest induced him to decline
it. Returning to Springfield, he gave himself with
renewed zest to his law practice, acquiesced in the
Compromise of 1850 with reluctance and a men
tal reservation, supported in the presidential cam
paign of 1852 the Whig candidate in some spir
itless speeches, and took but a languid interest in
the politics ofthe day. But just then his time was
drawing near.
The peace promised, and apparently inaugu
rated, by the Compromise of 1850 was rudely
broken by the introduction ofthe Kansas-Nebraska
bill in 1854. The repeal of the Missouri Com
promise, opening the Territories of the United
States, the heritage of coming generations, to the
invasion of slavery, suddenly revealed the whole
significance of the slavery question to the people
of the free States, and thrust itself into the poli
tics ofthe country as the paramount issue. Some-

62 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
thing like an electric shock flashed through the
North. Men who but a short time before had
been absorbed by their business pursuits, and dep
recated all political agitation, were startled out of
their security by a sudden alarm, and excitedly
took sides. That restless trouble of conscience
about slavery, which even in times of apparent
repose had secretly disturbed the souls of North
ern people, broke forth in an utterance louder than
ever. The bonds of accustomed party allegiance
gave way. Anti-slavery Democrats and anti-slavery
Whigs felt themselves drawn together by a common
overpowering sentiment, and soon they began to
rally in a new organization. The Republican party
sprang into being to meet the overruling call of
the hour. Then Abraham Lincoln's time was come.
He rapidly advanced to a position of conspicu
ous championship in the struggle. This, however,
was not owing to his virtues and abilities alone.
Indeed, the slavery question stirred his soul in its
profoundest depths ; it was, as one of his intimate
friends said, " the only one on which he would be
come excited ; " it called forth all his faculties and
energies. Yet there were many others who, having
long and arduously fought the anti-slavery battle
in the popular assembly, or in the press, or in the

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 63
halls of Congress, far surpassed him in prestige,
and compared with whom he was still an obscure
and untried man. His reputation, although highly
honorable and well earned, had so far been essen
tially local. As a stump-speaker in Whig canvasses
outside of his State, he had attracted compara
tively little attention ; but in Illinois he had been
recognized as one ofthe foremost men ofthe Whig
party. Among the opponents of the Nebraska
bill he occupied in his State so important a posi
tion that in 1854 he was the choice of a large
majority ofthe "Anti-Nebraska men" in the legis
lature for a seat in the Senate ofthe United States
which then became vacant; and when he, an old
Whig, could not obtain the votes of the Anti-
Nebraska Democrats necessary to make a majority,
he generously urged his friends to transfer their
votes to Lyman Trumbull, who was then elected.
Two years later, in the first national convention of
the Republican party, the delegation from Illinois
brought him forward as a candidate for the vice-
presidency, and he received respectable support.
Still, the name of Abraham Lincoln was not widely
known beyond the boundaries of his own State.
But now it was this local prominence in Illinois
that put him in a position of peculiar advantage

64 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
on the battlefield of national politics. In the
assault on the Missouri Compromise which broke
down all legal barriers to the spread of slavery,
Stephen Arnold Douglas was the ostensible leader
and central figure; and Douglas was a senator from
Illinois, Lincoln's State. Douglas's national theatre
of action was the Senate, but in his constituency in
Illinois were the roots of his official position and
power. What he did in the Senate he had to justify
before the people of Illinois, in order to maintain
himself in place ; and in Illinois all eyes turned to
Lincoln as Douglas's natural antagonist.
As very young men they had come to Illinois,
Lincoln from Indiana, Douglas from Vermont, and
had grown up together in public life, Douglas as a
Democrat, Lincoln as a Whig. They had met first
in Vandalia, in 1834, when Lincoln was in the
legislature and Douglas in the lobby; and again in
1836, both as members ofthe legislature. Douglas,
a very able politician, ofthe agile, combative, auda
cious, "pushing" sort, rose in political distinction
with remarkable rapidity. In quick succession he
became a member ofthe legislature, a State's attor
ney, Secretary of State, a judge on the supreme
bench of Illinois, three times a representative in
Congress, and a senator of the United States when

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN 65
only thirty-nine years old. In the national Demo
cratic convention of 1852, he appeared even as
an aspirant to the nomination for the presidency,
as the favorite of "young America," and received
a respectable vote. He had far outstripped Lin
coln in what is commonly called political success
and in reputation. But it had frequently happened
that in political campaigns Lincoln felt himself
impelled, or was selected by his Whig friends, to
answer Douglas's speeches; and thus the two were
looked upon, in a large part of the State at least,
as the representative combatants of their respec
tive parties in the debates before popular meetings.
As soon, therefore, as, after the passage of his Kan
sas-Nebraska bill, Douglas returned to Illinois to
defend his cause before his constituents, Lincoln,
obeying not only (his own impulse, but also gen
eral expectation, stepped forward as his principal
opponent. Thus the struggle about the princi
ples involved in the Kansas-Nebraska bill, or, in a
broader sense, the struggle between freedom and
slavery, assumed in Illinois the outward form of
a personal contest between Lincoln and Douglas;
and as it continued and became more animated,
that personal contest in Illinois was watched with
constantly increasing interest by the whole coun-

66 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
try. When, in 1858, Douglas's senatorial term
being about to expire, Lincoln was formally desig
nated by the Republican convention of Illinois as
their candidate for the Senate, to take Douglas's
place, and the two contestants agreed to debate
the questions at issue face to face in a series of
pubfic meetings, the eyes of the whole American
people were turned eagerly to that one point; and
the spectacle reminded one of those lays of ancient
times telling of two armies, in battle array, stand
ing still to see their two principal champions fight
out the contested cause between the lines in single
combat. Lincoln had then reached the full maturity of
his powers. His equipment as a statesman did not
embrace a comprehensive knowledge of public
affairs. What he had studied he had indeed made
his own, with the eager craving and that zealous
tenacity characteristic of superior minds learning
under difficulties. But his narrow opportunities
and the unsteady life he had led during his younger
years had not permitted the accumulation of large
stores in his mind. It is true, in political campaigns
he had occasionally spoken on the ostensible issues
between the Whigs and the Democrats, the tariff,
internal improvements, banks, and so on, but only

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 67
in a perfunctory manner. Had he ever given much
serious thought and study to these subjects, it is
safe to assume that a mind so prolific of original
conceits as his would certainly have produced some
utterance upon them worth remembering. His
soul had evidently never been deeply stirred by such
topics. But when his moral nature was aroused,
his brain developed an untiring activity until it had
mastered all the knowledge within reach. As soon
as the repeal of the Missouri Compromise had thrust
the slavery question into politics as the paramount
issue, Lincoln plunged into an arduous study of all
its legal, historical, and moral aspects, and then his
mind became a complete arsenal of argument. His
rich natural gifts, trained by long and varied prac
tice, had made him an orator of rare persuasiveness.
In his immature days, he had pleased himself for
a short period with that inflated, high-flown style
which, among the uncultivated, passes for " beau
tiful speaking." His inborn truthfulness and his
artistic instinct soon overcame that aberration, and
revealed to him the noble beauty and strength of
simplicity. He possessed an uncommon power of
clear and compact statement, which might have re
minded those who knew the story of his early youth
of the efforts of the poor boy, when he copied his

68 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
compositions from the scraped wooden shovel, care
fully to trim his expressions in order to save paper.
His language had the energy of honest directness,
and he was a master of logical lucidity. He loved
to point and enliven his reasoning by humorous
illustrations, usually anecdotes of Western life, of
which he had an inexhaustible store at his com
mand. These anecdotes had not seldom a flavor
of rustic robustness about them, but he used them
with great effect, while amusing the audience, to
give life to an abstraction, to explode an absurdity,
to clinch an argument, to drive home an admoni
tion. The natural kindliness of his tone, softening
prejudice and disarming partisan rancor, would
often open to his reasoning a way into minds most
unwilling to receive it.
Yet his greatest power consisted in the charm of
his individuality. That charm did not, in the ordi
nary way, appeal to the ear or to the eye. His voice
was not melodious; rather shrill and piercing, espe
cially when it rose to its high treble in moments of
great animation. His figure was unhandsome, and
the action of his unwieldy limbs awkward. He com
manded none of the outward graces of oratory as
they are commonly understood. His charm was of
a different kind. It flowed from the rare depth and

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 69
genuineness of his convictions and his sympathetic
feelings. Sympathy was the strongest element in
his nature. One of his biographers, who knew him
before he became President, says: "Lincoln's com
passion might be stirred deeply by an object present,
but never by an object absent and unseen. In the
former case he would most likely extend relief, with
little inquiry into the merits of the case, because,
as he expressed it himself, it 'took a pain out of his
own heart.' ' Only half of this is correct. It is cer
tainly true that he could not witness any individ
ual distress or oppression, or any kind of suffering,
without feeling a pang of pain himself, and that by
relieving as much as he could the suffering of oth
ers he put an end to his own. This compassionate
impulse to help he felt not only for human beings,
but for every living creature. As in his boyhood he
angrily reproved the boys who tormented a wood
turtle by putting a burning coal on its back, so, we
are told, he would, when a mature man, on a jour
ney, dismount from his buggy and wade waist-deep
in mire to rescue a pig struggling in a swamp. In
deed, appeals to his compassion were so irresistible
to him, and he felt it so difficult to refuse anything
when his refusal could give pain, that he himself
sometimes spoke of his inability to say "no" as

70 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
a positive weakness. But that certainly does not
prove that his compassionate feeling was confined
to individual cases of suffering witnessed with his
own eyes. As the boy was moved by the aspect
of the tortured wood turtle to compose an essay
against cruelty to animals in general, so the aspect
of other cases of suffering and wrong wrought up
his moral nature, and set his mind to work against
cruelty, injustice, and oppression in general.
As his sympathy went forth to others, it attracted
others to him. Especially those whom he called the
"plain people" felt themselves drawn to him by
the instinctive feeling that he understood, esteemed,
and appreciated them. He had grown up among
the poor, the lowly, the ignorant. He never ceased
to remember the good souls he had met among
them, and the many kindnesses they had done him.
Although in his mental development he had risen
far above them, he never looked down upon them.
How they felt and how they reasoned he knew, for
so he had once felt and reasoned himself. How
they could be moved he knew, for so he had once
been moved himself, and he practiced moving others.
His mind was much larger than theirs, but it thor
oughly comprehended theirs; and while he thought
much farther than they, their thoughts were ever

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN 71
present to him. Nor had the visible distance be
tween them grown as wide as his rise in the world
would seem to have warranted. Much of his back
woods speech and manners still clung to him. Al
though he had become "Mr. Lincoln" to his later
acquaintances, he was still "Abe" to the "Nats"
and "Billys" and "Daves" of his youth; and their
familiarity neither appeared unnatural to them,
nor was it in the least awkward to him. He still
told and enjoyed stories similar to those he had told
and enjoyed in the Indiana settlement and at New
Salem. His wants remained as modest as they had
ever been; his domestic habits 'had by no means
completely accommodated themselves to those of
his more high-born wife; and though the "Ken
tucky jeans" apparel had long been dropped, his
clothes of better material and better make would
sit ill sorted on his gigantic limbs. His cotton
umbrella, without a handle, and tied together
with a coarse string to keep it from flapping, when
he carried on his circuit rides, is said to be remem
bered still by some of his surviving neighbors. This
rusticity of habit was utterly free from that affected
contempt of refinement and comfort which self-
made men sometimes carry into their more afflu
ent circumstances. To Abraham Lincoln it was

72 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
entirely natural, and all those who came into con
tact with him knew it to be so. In his ways of
thinking and feeling he had become a gentleman
in the highest sense, but the refining process had
polished but little the outward form. The plain
people, therefore, still considered "honest Abe Lin
coln" one of themselves: and when they felt, which
they no doubt frequently did, that his thoughts
and aspirations moved in a sphere above their own,
they were all the more proud of him, without any
diminution of fellow feeling. It was this relation
of mutual sympathy and understanding between
Lincoln and the plain people that gave him his
peculiar power as a public man, and singularly fit
ted him, as we shall see, for that leadership which
was preeminently required in the great crisis then
coming on, — the leadership which indeed thinks
and moves ahead ofthe masses, but always remains
within sight and sympathetic touch of them.
He entered upon the campaign of 1858 better
equipped than he had ever been before. He not
only instinctively felt, but he had convinced him
self by arduous study, that in this struggle against
the spread of slavery he had right, justice, philo
sophy, the enlightened opinion of mankind, his
tory, the Constitution, and good policy on his side.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 73
It was observed that after he began to discuss the
slavery question his speeches were pitched in a
much loftier key than his former oratorical efforts.
While he remained fond of telling funny stories in
private conversation, they disappeared more and
more from his public discourse. He would still now
and then point his argument with expressions of
inimitable quaintness, and flash out rays of kindly
humor and witty irony; but his general tone was
serious, and rose sometimes to genuine solemnity.
His masterly skill in dialectical thrust and parry,
his wealth of knowledge, his power of reasoning,
and elevation of sentiment, disclosed in language
of rare precision, strength, and beauty, not seldom
astonished his old friends.
Neither of the two champions could have found
a more formidable antagonist than each now met in
the other. Douglas was by far the most conspicu
ous member of his party. His admirers had dubbed
him "the little giant," contrasting in that nick
name the greatness of his mind with the smallness
of his body. But though of low stature, his broad-
shouldered figure appeared uncommonly sturdy,
and there was something lion-like in the square
ness of his brow and jaw, and in the defiant shake
of his long hair. His loud and persistent advocacy

74 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
of territorial expansion, in the name of patriotism
and "manifest destiny," had given him an enthu
siastic following among the young and ardent.
Great natural parts, a highly combative tempera
ment, and long training had made him a debater
unsurpassed in a Senate filled with able men. He
could be as forceful in his appeals to patriotic
feelings as he was fierce in denunciation and thor
oughly skilled in all the baser tricks of parliamen
tary pugilism. While genial and rollicking in his
social intercourse, — the idol of the "boys," — he
felt himself one of the most renowned statesmen
of his time, and would frequently meet his oppo
nents with an overbearing haughtiness, as persons
more to be pitied than to be feared. In his speech
opening the campaign of 1858, he spoke of Lin
coln, whom the Republicans had dared to advance
as their candidate for " his " place in the Senate,
with an air of patronizing if not contemptuous con
descension, as " a kind, amiable, and intelligent
gentleman and a good citizen." The little giant
would have been pleased to pass off his antagonist
as a tall dwarf. He knew Lincoln too well, how
ever, to indulge himself seriously in such a delusion.
But the political situation was at that moment
in a curious tangle, and Douglas could expect to

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 75
derive from the confusion great advantage over his
opponent. By the repeal ofthe Missouri Compromise, open
ing the Territories to the ingress of slavery, Doug
las had pleased the South, but greatly alarmed the
North. He had sought to conciliate Northern sen
timent by appending to his Kansas-Nebraska bill
the declaration that its intent was " not to legislate
slavery into any State or Territory, nor to exclude
it therefrom, but to leave the people thereof per
fectly free to form and regulate their institutions
in their own way, subject only to the Constitution
of the United States." This he called " the great
principle of popular sovereignty." When asked
whether, under this act, the people of a Territory,
before its admission as a State, would have the right
to exclude slavery, he answered, " That is a ques
tion for the courts to decide." Then came the fa
mous "Dred Scott decision," in which the Supreme
Court held substantially that the right to hold slaves
as property existed in the Territories by virtue of
the Federal Constitution, and that this right could
not be denied by any act of a territorial govern
ment. This, of course, denied the right ofthe peo
ple of any Territory to exclude slavery while they
were in a territorial condition, and it alarmed the

76 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
Northern people still more. Douglas recognized
the binding force of the decision of the Supreme
Court, at the same time maintaining, most illogi-
cally, that his great principle of popular sover
eignty remained in force nevertheless. Meanwhile,
the pro-slavery people of western Missouri, the so-
called "border ruffians," had invaded Kansas, set
up a constitutional convention, made a constitu
tion of an extreme pro-slavery type, the "Lecomp
ton Constitution," refused to submit it fairly to
a vote of the people of Kansas, and then referred
it to Congress for acceptance, — seeking thus to
accomplish the admission of Kansas as a slave State.
Had Douglas supported such a scheme, he would
have lost all foothold in the North. In the name
of popular sovereignty he loudly declared his op
position to the acceptance of any constitution not
sanctioned by a formal popular vote. He " did
not care," he said, "whether slavery be voted up or
down," but there must be a fair vote of the people.
Thus he drew upon himself the hostility of the
Buchanan administration, which was controlled by
the pro-slavery interest, but he saved his Northern
following. More than this, not only did his Demo
cratic admirers now call him " the true champion
of freedom," but even some Republicans of large

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 77
influence, prominent among them Horace Greeley,
sympathizing with Douglas in his fight against the
Lecompton Constitution, and hoping to detach him
permanently from the pro-slavery interest and to
force a lasting breach in the Democratic party, seri
ously advised the Republicans of Illinois to give up
their opposition to Douglas, and to help reelect him
to the Senate. Lincoln was not of that opinion.
He believed that great popular movements can
succeed only when guided by their faithful friends,
and that the anti-slavery cause could not safely be
intrusted to the keeping of one who " did not care
whether slavery be voted up or down." This opinion
prevailed in Illinois ; but the influences within the
Republican party, over which it prevailed, yielded
only a reluctant acquiescence, if they acquiesced at
all, after having materially strengthened Douglas's
position. Such was the situation of things when
the campaign of 1 858 between Lincoln and Doug
las began.
Lincoln opened the campaign on his side, at the
convention which nominated him as the Republican
candidate for the senatorship, with a memorable
saying which sounded like a shout from the watch-
tower of history : " A house divided against itself
cannot stand. I believe this government cannot

78 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
endure permanently half slave and half free. I
do not expect the Union to be dissolved. I do not
expect the house to fall, but I expect it will cease to
be divided. It will become all one thing or all the
other. Either the opponents of slavery will arrest
the further spread of it, and place it where the pub
lic mind shall rest in the belief that it is in the
course of ultimate extinction ; or its advocates will
push it forward, till it shall become alike lawful in
all the States, — old as well as new, North as well
as South." Then he proceeded to point out that
the Nebraska doctrine combined with the Dred
Scott decision worked in the direction of making
the nation "all slave." Here was the "irrepressible
conflict" spoken of by Seward a short time later,
in a speech made famous mainly by that phrase.
If there was any new discovery in it, the right of
priority was Lincoln's. This utterance proved not
only his statesmanlike conception of the issue, but
also, in his situation as a candidate, the firmness of
his moral courage. The friends to whom he had
read the draught of this speech before he delivered
it warned him anxiously that its delivery might be
fatal to his success in the election. This was shrewd
advice, in the ordinary sense. While a slaveholder
could threaten disunion with impunity, the mere

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 79
suggestion that the existence of slavery was incom
patible with freedom in the Union would hazard
the political chances of any public man in the North.
But Lincoln was inflexible. "It is true," said he,
" and I will deliver it as written. ... I would rather
be defeated with these expressions in my speech
held up and discussed before the people than be vic
torious without them." The statesman was right
in his far-seeing judgment and his conscientious
statement of the truth, but the practical politicians
were also right in their prediction ofthe immediate
effect. Douglas instantly seized upon the declara
tion that a house divided against itself cannot stand
as the main objective point of his attack, interpret
ing it as an incitement to a "relentless sectional
war," and there is no doubt that the persistent reit
eration of this charge served to frighten not a few
timid souls.
Lincoln constantly endeavored to bring the
moral and philosophical side of the subject to the
foreground. " Slavery is wrong" was the keynote
of all his speeches. To Douglas's glittering sophism
that the right of the people of a Territory to have
slavery or not, as they might desire, was in accord
ance with the principle of true popular sovereignty,
he made the pointed answer: "Then true popular

80 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
sovereignty, according to Senator Douglas, means
that, when one man makes another man his slave,
no third man shall be allowed to object." To
Douglas's argument that the principle which de
manded that the people of a Territory should be
permitted to choose whether they would have slav
ery or not "originated when God made man, and
placed good and evil before him, allowing him to
choose upon his own responsibility," Lincoln sol
emnly replied : "No; God did not place good and
evil before man, telling him to make his choice.
On the contrary, God did tell him there was one
tree of the fruit of which he should not eat, upon
pain of death." He did not, however, place him
self on the most advanced ground taken by the rad
ical anti-slavery men. He admitted that, under the
Constitution, "the Southern people were entitled
to a congressional fugitive slave law," although he
did not approve the fugitive slave law then existing.
He declared also that, if slavery were kept out of
the Territories during their territorial existence, as
it should be, and if then the people of any Territory,
having a fair chance and a clear field, should do
such an extraordinary thing as to adopt a slave con
stitution, uninfluenced by the actual presence of
the institution among them, he saw no alternative

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 81
but to admit such a Territory into the Union. He
declared further that, while he should be exceed
ingly glad to see slavery abolished in the District
of Columbia, he would, as a member of Congress,
with his present views, not endeavor to bring on
that abolition except on condition that emancipa
tion be gradual, that it be approved by the deci
sion of a majority of voters in the District, and that
compensation be made to unwilling owners. On
every available occasion, he pronounced himself in
favor of the deportation and colonization of the
blacks, of course with their consent. He repeatedly
disavowed any wish on his part to have social and
political equality established between whites and
blacks. On this point he summed up his views in
a reply to Douglas's assertion that the Declaration
of Independence, in speaking of all men as being
created equal, did not include the negroes, saying :
"I do not understand the Declaration of Independ
ence to mean that all men were created equal in
all respects. They are not equal in color. But I
believe that it does mean to declare that all men
are equal in some respects; they are equal in their
right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."
With regard to some of these subjects Lincoln
modified his position at a later period, and it has

82 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
been suggested that he would have professed more
advanced principles in his debates with Douglas,
had he not feared thereby to lose votes. This view
can hardly be sustained. Lincoln had the courage
of his opinions, but he was not a radical. The man
who risked his election by delivering, against the
urgent protest of his friends, the speech about "the
house divided against itself" would not have shrunk
from the expression of more extreme views, had he
really entertained them. It is only fair to assume
that he said what at the time he really thought,
and that if, subsequently, his opinions changed, it
was owing to new conceptions of good policy and
of duty brought forth by an entirely new set of cir
cumstances and exigencies. It is characteristic that
he continued to adhere to the impracticable colo
nization plan even after the Emancipation Procla
mation had already been issued.
But in this contest Lincoln proved himself not
only a debater, but also a political strategist of the
first order. The "kind, amiable, and intelligent
gentleman," as Douglas had been pleased to call
him, was by no means as harmless as a dove. He pos
sessed an uncommon share of that worldly shrewd
ness which not seldom goes with genuine simplicity
of character; and the political experience gathered

/,s,r,i/// ,///?¦/ ./>-//e/'/r/. //"' O'/r/Ar// or/, 7n//r/»

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 83
in the legislature and in Congress and in many
election campaigns, added to his keen intuitions,
had made him as far-sighted a judge ofthe proba
ble effects of a public man's sayings or doings upon
the popular mind, and as accurate a calculator in
estimating political chances and forecasting results,
as could be found among the party managers in
Illinois. And now he perceived keenly the ugly
dilemma in which Douglas found himself, between
the Dred Scott decision, which declared the right
to hold slaves to exist in the Territories by virtue
ofthe Federal Constitution, and his "great prin
ciple of popular sovereignty," according to which
the people of a Territory, if they saw fit, were to
have the right to exclude slavery therefrom. Doug
las was twisting and squirming to the best of his
ability to avoid the admission that the two were in
compatible. The question then presented itself if
it would be good policy for Lincoln to force Doug
las to a clear expression of his opinion as to whether,
the Dred Scott decision notwithstanding, "the peo
ple of a Territory could in any lawful way exclude
slavery from its limits prior to the formation of a
state constitution." Lincoln foresaw and predicted
what Douglas would answer: that slavery could not
exist in a Territory unless the people desired it

84 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
and gave it protection by territorial legislation. In
an improvised caucus the policy of pressing the
interrogatory on Douglas was discussed. Lincoln's
friends unanimously advised against it, because the
answer foreseen would sufficiently commend Doug
las to the people of Illinois to insure his reelection
to the Senate. But Lincoln persisted. "I am after
larger game," said he. "If Douglas so answers, he
can never be President, and the battle of i860 is
worth a hundred of this." The interrogatory was
pressed upon Douglas, and Douglas did answer that,
no matter what the decision ofthe Supreme Court
might be on the abstract question, the people of
a Territory had the lawful means to introduce or
exclude slavery by territorial legislation friendly or
unfriendly to the institution. Lincoln found it easy
to show the absurdity of the proposition that, if
slavery were admitted to exist of right in the Ter
ritories by virtue of the supreme law, the Federal
Constitution, it could be kept out or expelled by
an inferior law, one made by a territorial legisla
ture. Again the judgment of the politicians, hav
ing only the nearest object in view, proved correct :
Douglas was reelected to the Senate. But Lincoln's
judgment proved correct also: Douglas, by resort
ing to the expedient of his "unfriendly legislation

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 85
doctrine," forfeited his last chance of becoming
President of the United States. He might have
hoped to win, by sufficient atonement, his pardon
from the South for his opposition to the Lecompton
Constitution; but that he taught the people ofthe
Territories a trick by which they could defeat what
the pro-slavery men considered a constitutional
right, and that he called that trick lawful, — this
the slave power would never forgive. The breach
between the Southern and the Northern demo
cracy was thenceforth irremediable and fatal.
The presidential election of i860 approached.
The struggle in Kansas, and the debates in Con
gress which accompanied it, and which not unfre
quently provoked violent outbursts, continually
stirred the popular excitement. Within the Demo
cratic party raged the war of factions. The national
Democratic convention met at Charleston on the
23d of April, i860. After a struggle often days
between the adherents and the opponents of Doug
las, during which the delegates from the cotton
States had withdrawn, the convention adjourned
without having nominated any candidates, to meet
again in Baltimore on the 1 8 th of June. There was
no prospect, however, of reconciling the hostile
elements. It appeared very probable that the Bal-

86 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
timore convention would nominate Douglas, while
the seceding Southern Democrats would set up a
candidate of their own, representing extreme pro-
slavery principles.
Meanwhile, the national Republican convention
assembled at Chicago on the 16th of May, full of
enthusiasm and hope. The situation was easily
understood. The Democrats would have the South.
In order to succeed in the election, the Republi
cans had to win, in addition to the States carried
by Fremont in 1856, those that were classed as
"doubtful," — New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Indi
ana, or Illinois in the place of either New Jersey
or Indiana. The most eminent Republican states
men and leaders of the time thought of for the
presidency were Seward and Chase, both regarded
as belonging to the more advanced order of anti-
slavery men. Of the two, Seward had the largest
following, mainly from New York, New England,
and the Northwest. Cautious politicians doubted
seriously whether Seward, to whom some phrases
in his speeches had unreservedly given the reputa
tion of a reckless radical, would be able to com
mand the whole Republican vote in the doubtful
States. Besides, during his long public career he
had made enemies. It was evident that those who

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 87
thought Seward's nomination too hazardous an ex
periment would consider Chase unavailable for the
same reason. They would then look round for an
"available" man; and among the "available" men
Abraham Lincoln was easily discovered to stand
foremost. His great debate with Douglas had given
him a national reputation. The people ofthe East
being eager to see the hero of so dramatic a contest,
he had been induced to visit several Eastern cities,
and had astonished and delighted large and distin
guished audiences with speeches of singular power
and originality. An address delivered by him in
the Cooper Institute in New York, before an audi
ence containing a large number of important per
sons, was then, and has ever since been, especially
praised as one of the most logical and convincing
political speeches ever made in this country. The
people of the West had grown proud of him as a
distinctively Western great man, and his popularity
at home had some peculiar features which could be
expected to exercise a potent charm. Nor was Lin
coln's name as that of an available candidate left to
the chance of accidental discovery. It is indeed not
probable that he thought of himself as a presidential
possibility, during his contest with Douglas for the
senatorship. As late as April, 1 859, he had written

88 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
to a friend who had approached him on the subject
that he did not think himself fit for the presidency.
The vice-presidency was then the limit of his ambi
tion. But some of his friends in Illinois took the
matter seriously in hand, and Lincoln, after some
hesitation, then formally authorized "the use of his
name." The matter was managed with such energy
and excellent judgment that in the convention he
had not only the whole vote of Illinois to start with,
but won votes on all sides without offending any
rival. A large majority ofthe opponents of Seward
went over to Abraham Lincoln, and gave him the
nomination on the third ballot. As had been fore
seen, Douglas was nominated by one wing of the
Democratic party at Baltimore, while the extreme
pro-slavery wing put Breckinridge into the field as
its candidate. After a campaign conducted with the
energy of genuine enthusiasm on the anti-slavery
side, the united Republicans defeated the divided
Democrats, and Lincoln was elected President by
a majority of fifty-seven votes in the electoral col
leges. The result of the election had hardly been de
clared when the disunion movement in the South,
long threatened and carefully planned and pre
pared, broke out in the shape of open revolt, and

/('/*/? /t*r/// ^y^/tro//-/

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 89
nearly a month before Lincoln could be inau
gurated as President of the United States, seven
Southern States had adopted ordinances of seces
sion, formed an independent confederacy, framed
a constitution for it, and elected Jefferson Davis its
president, expecting the other slaveholding States
soon to join them. On the 1 ith of February, 1861,
Lincoln left Springfield for Washington; having,
with characteristic simplicity, asked his law partner
not to change the sign of the firm " Lincoln and
Herndon" during the four years' unavoidable ab
sence of the senior partner, and having taken an
affectionate and touching leave of his neighbors.
The situation which confronted the new Presi
dent was appalling: the larger part ofthe South in
open rebellion, the rest of the slaveholding States
wavering, preparing to follow; the revolt guided by
determined, daring, and skillful leaders; the South
ern people, apparently full of enthusiasm and mili
tary spirit, rushing to arms, some of the forts and
arsenals already in their possession; thegovernment
ofthe Union, before the accession ofthe new Presi
dent, in the hands of men some of whom actively
sympathized with the revolt, while others were ham
pered by their traditional doctrines in dealing with
it, and really gave it aid and comfort by their irreso-

90 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
lute attitude; all the departments full of "Southern
sympathizers" and honeycombed with disloyalty;
the treasury empty, and the public credit at the low
est ebb; the arsenals ill supplied with arms, if not
emptied by treacherous practices; the regular army
of insignificant strength, dispersed over an immense
surface, and deprived by defection of some of its
best officers; the navy small and antiquated. But
that was not all. The threat of disunion had so often
been resorted to by the slave power in years gone
by that most Northern people had ceased to believe
in its seriousness. But when disunion actually ap
peared as a stern reality, something like a chill swept
through the whole Northern country. A cry for
union and peace at any price rose on all sides. De
mocratic partisanship reiterated this cry with vocif
erous vehemence, and even many Republicans grew
afraid of the victory they had just achieved at the
ballot-box, and spoke of compromise. The country
fairly resounded with the noise of "anti-coercion
meetings." Expressions of firm resolution from de
termined anti-slavery men were indeed not want
ing, but they were for a while almost drowned by
a bewildering confusion of discordant voices. Even
this was not all. Potent influences in Europe, with
an ill-concealed desire for the permanent disrup-

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 91
tion of the American Union, eagerly espoused the
cause of the Southern seceders, and the two princi
pal maritime powers of the Old World seemed only
to be waiting for a favorable opportunity to lend
them a helping hand.
This was the state of things to be mastered by
"honest Abe Lincoln" when he took his seat in the
presidential chair, — "honest Abe Lincoln," who
was so good natured that he could not say "no;"
the greatest achievement in whose life had been
a debate on the slavery question; who had never
been in any position of power; who was without
the slightest experience of high executive duties,
and who had only a speaking acquaintance with the
men upon whose counsel and cooperation he was
to depend. Nor was his accession to power under
such circumstances greeted with general confidence
even by the members of his party. While he had
indeed won much popularity, many Republicans,
especially among those who had advocated Seward's
nomination for the presidency, with a feeling little
short of dismay, saw the simple "Illinois lawyer"
take the reins of government. The orators and
journals of the opposition were ridiculing and
lampooning him without measure. Many people
actually wondered how such a man could dare to

92 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
undertake a task which, as he himself had said to
his neighbors in his parting speech, was "more diffi
cult than that of Washington himself had been."
But Lincoln brought to that task, aside from
other uncommon qualities, the first requisite, —
an intuitive comprehension of its nature. While
he did not indulge in the delusion that the Union
could be maintained or restored without a conflict of
arms, he could indeed not foresee all the problems
he would have to solve. He instinctively under
stood, however, by what means that conflict would
have to be conducted by the government of a demo
cracy. He knew that the impending war, whether
great or small, would not be like a foreign war, ex
citing a united national enthusiasm, but a civil war,
likely to fan to uncommon heat the animosities of
party even in the localities controlled by the gov
ernment; that this war would have to be carried
on, not by means of a ready-made machinery, ruled
by an undisputed, absolute will, but by means to be
furnished by the voluntary action ofthe people: —
armies to be formed by voluntary enlistment; large
sums of money to be raised by the people, through
their representatives, voluntarily taxing themselves;
trusts of extraordinary power to be voluntarily
granted; and war measures, not seldom restricting

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 93
the rights and liberties to which the citizen was
accustomed, to be voluntarily accepted and sub
mitted to by the people, or at least a large majority
of them; — and that this would have to be kept
up, not merely during a short period of enthusias
tic excitement, but possibly through weary years
of alternating success and disaster, hope and de
spondency. He knew that in order to steer this
government by public opinion successfully through
all the confusion created by the prejudices and
doubts and differences of sentiment distracting the
popular mind, and so to propitiate, inspire, mould,
organize, unite, and guide the popular will that it
might give forth all the means required for the per
formance of his great task, he would have to take
into account all the influences strongly affecting
the current of popular thought and feeling, and to
direct while appearing to obey.
This was the kind of leadership he intuitively
conceived to be needed when a free people were
to be led forward en masse to overcome a great com
mon danger under circumstances of appalling dif
ficulty, — the leadership which does not dash ahead
with brilliant daring, no matter who follows, but
which is intent upon rallying all the available forces,
gathering in the stragglers, closing up the column,

94 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
so that the front may advance well supported. For
this leadership Abraham Lincoln was admirably fit
ted, — better than any other American statesman
of his day ; for he understood the plain people,
with all their loves and hates, their prejudices and
their noble impulses, their weaknesses and their
strength, as he understood himself, and his sym
pathetic nature was apt to draw their sympathy to
him. His inaugural address foreshadowed his ofiicial
course in characteristic manner. Although yield
ing nothing in point of principle, it was by no
means a flaming anti-slavery manifesto, such as
would have pleased the more ardent Republicans.
It was rather the entreaty of a sorrowing father
speaking to his wayward children. In the kindliest
language he pointed out to the secessionists how
ill-advised their attempt at disunion was, and why,
for their own sakes, they should desist. Almost
plaintively he told them that, while it was not their
duty to destroy the Union, it was his sworn duty to
preserve it; that the least he could do, under the
obligations of his oath, was to possess and hold the
property ofthe United States ; that he hoped to do
this peaceably; that he abhorred war for any pur
pose, and that they would have none unless they

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 95
themselves were the aggressors. It was a master
piece of persuasiveness; and while Lincoln had
accepted many valuable amendments suggested by
Seward, it was essentially his own. Probably Lin
coln himself did not expect his inaugural address
to have any effect upon the secessionists, for he must
have known them to be resolved upon disunion at
any cost. But it was an appeal to the wavering
minds in the North, and upon them it made a pro
found impression. Every candid man, however
timid and halting, had to admit that the President
was bound by his oath to do his duty; that under
that oath he could do no less than he said he would
do; that if the secessionists resisted such an appeal
as the President had made, they were bent upon
mischief, and that the government must be sup
ported against them. The partisan sympathy with
the Southern insurrection which still existed in the
North did indeed not disappear, but it diminished
perceptibly under the influence of such reasoning.
Those who still resisted it did so at the risk of
appearing unpatriotic.
It must not be supposed, however, that Lincoln at
once succeeded in pleasing everybody, even among
his friends, — even among those nearest to him. In
selecting his cabinet, which he did substantially be-

96 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
fore he left Springfield for Washington, he thought
it wise to call to his assistance the strong men of his
party, especially those who had given evidence of
the support they commanded as his competitors in
the Chicago convention. In them he found at the
same time representatives of the different shades of
opinion within the party, and of the different ele
ments — former Whigs and former Democrats —
from which the party had recruited itself. This was
sound policy under the circumstances. It might in
deed have been foreseen that among the members of
a cabinet so composed, troublesome disagreements
and rivalries would break out. But it was better
for the President to have these strong and ambitious
men near him as his cooperators than to have them
as his critics in Congress, where their differences
might have been composed in a common opposi
tion to him. As members of his cabinet he could
hope to control them, and to keep them busily
employed in the service of a common purpose, if
he had the strength to do so. Whether he did pos
sess this strength was soon tested by a singularly
rude trial.
There can be no doubt that the foremost mem
bers of his cabinet, Seward and Chase, the most
eminent Republican statesmen, had felt themselves

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 97
wronged by their party when in its national con
vention it preferred to them for the presidency a
man whom, not unnaturally, they thought greatly
their inferior in ability and experience as well as in
service. The soreness of that disappointment was
intensified when they saw this Western man in the
White House, with so much of rustic manner and
speech as still clung to him, meeting his fellow citi
zens, high and low, on a footing of equality, with
the simplicity of his good nature unburdened by
any conventional dignity of deportment, and deal
ing with the great business of state in an easy-going,
unmethodical, and apparently somewhat irreverent
way. They did not understand such a man. Espe
cially Seward, who, as Secretary of State, considered
himselfnext to the Chief Executive, and who quickly
accustomed himself to giving orders and making
arrangements upon his own motion, thought it ne
cessary that he should rescue the direction of public
affairs from hands so unskilled, and take full charge
of them himself. At the end of the first month of
the administration he submitted a "memorandum"
to President Lincoln, which has been first brought
to light by Nicolay and Hay, and is one of their
most valuable contributions to the history of those
days. In that paper Seward actually told the Presi-

98 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
dent that, at the end of a month's administration,
the government was still without a policy, either do
mestic or foreign; that the slavery question should
be eliminated from the struggle about the Union ;
that the matter ofthe maintenance ofthe forts and
other possessions in the South should be decided
with that view ; that explanations should be de
manded categorically from the governments of
Spain and France, which were then preparing, one
for the annexation of San Domingo, and both for
the invasion of Mexico; that if no satisfactory ex
planations were received, war should be declared
against Spain and France by the United States;
that explanations should also be sought from Russia
and Great Britain, and a vigorous continental spirit
of independence against European intervention be
aroused all over the American continent; that this
policy should be incessantly pursued and directed
by somebody; that either the President should de
vote himself entirely to it, or devolve the direction
on some member of his cabinet, whereupon all
debate on this policy must end.
This could be understood only as a formal de
mand that the President should acknowledge his
own incompetency to perform his duties, content
himself with the amusement of distributing post-

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 99
offices, and resign his power as to all important
affairs into the hands of his Secretary of State. It
seems to-day incomprehensible how a statesman
of Seward's calibre could at that period conceive
a plan of policy in which the slavery question had
no place ; a policy which rested upon the utterly
delusive assumption that the secessionists, who had
already formed their Southern Confederacy, and
were with stern resolution preparing to fight for its
independence, could be hoodwinked back into the
Union by some sentimental demonstration against
European interference; a policy which, at that crit
ical moment, would have involved the Union in a
foreign war, thus inviting foreign intervention in
favor ofthe Southern Confederacy, and increasing
tenfold its chances in the struggle for independence.
But it is equally incomprehensible how Seward
could fail to see that this demand of an uncondi
tional surrender was a mortal insult to the head of
the government, and that by putting his proposi
tion on paper he delivered himself into the hands
ofthe very man he had insulted; for had Lincoln,
as most Presidents would have done, instantly dis
missed Seward, and published the true reason for
that dismissal, it would inevitably have been the
end of Seward's career. But Lincoln did what not

ioo ABRAHAM LINCOLN
many of the noblest and greatest men in history
would have been noble and great enough to do.
He considered that Seward, if rightly controlled,
was still capable of rendering great service to his
country in the place in which he was. He ignored
the insult, but firmly established his superiority.
In his reply, which he forthwith dispatched, he
told Seward that the administration had a domestic
policy as laid down in the inaugural address with
Seward's approval ; that it had a foreign policy as
traced in Seward's dispatches with the President's
approval; that if any policy was to be maintained
or changed, he, the President, was to direct that on
his responsibility; and that in performing that duty
the President had a right to the advice of his sec
retaries. Seward's fantastic schemes of foreign war
and continental policies Lincoln brushed aside by
passing them over in silence. Nothing more was
said. Seward must have felt that he was at the mercy
of a superior man ; that his offensive proposition
had been generously pardoned as a temporary ab
erration of a great mind, and that he could atone
for it only by devoted personal loyalty. This he
did. He was thoroughly subdued, and thenceforth
submitted to Lincoln his dispatches for revision and
amendment without a murmur. The war with

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 101
European nations was no longer thought of; the
slavery question found in due time its proper place
in the struggle for the Union; and when, at a later
period, the dismissal of Seward was demanded by
dissatisfied senators who attributed to him the
shortcomings of the administration, Lincoln stood
stoutly by his faithful Secretary of State.
Chase, the Secretary of the Treasury, a man of
superb presence, of eminent ability and ardent pa
triotism, of great natural dignity and a certain out
ward coldness of manner, which made him appear
more difficult of approach than he really was, did
not permit his disappointment to burst out in such
extravagant demonstrations. But Lincoln's ways
were so essentially different from his that they never
became quite intelligible, and certainly not congen
ial to him. It might, perhaps, have been better had
there been, at the beginning ofthe administration,
some decided clash between Lincoln and Chase, as
there was between Lincoln and Seward, to bring
on a full mutual explanation, and to make Chase
appreciate the real seriousness of Lincoln's nature.
But as it was, their relations always remained some
what formal, and Chase never felt quite at ease
under a chief whom he could not understand, and
whose character and powers he never learned to

102 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
esteem at their true value. At the same time, he
devoted himself zealously to the duties of his de
partment, and did the country arduous service
under circumstances of extreme difficulty. Nobody
recognized this more heartily than Lincoln him
self, and they managed to work together until near
the end of Lincoln's first presidential term, when
Chase, after some disagreements concerning ap
pointments to office, resigned from the treasury;
and after Taney's death, the President made him
Chief Justice.
The rest of the cabinet consisted of men of less
eminence, who subordinated themselves more easily.
In January, 1862, Lincoln found it necessary to
bow Cameron out of the war office, and to put in
his place Edwin M. Stanton, a man of intensely
practical mind, vehement impulses, fierce positive-
ness, ruthless energy, immense working power, lofty
patriotism, and severest devotion to duty. He ac
cepted the war office, not as a partisan, for he had
never been a Republican, but only to do all he
could in "helping to save the country." The man
ner in which Lincoln succeeded in taming this lion
to his will, by frankly recognizing his great quali
ties, by giving him the most generous confidence,
by aiding him in his work to the full of his power,

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN 103
by kindly concession or affectionate persuasiveness
in cases of differing opinions, or, when it was neces
sary, by firm assertions of superior authority, bears
the highest testimony to his skill in the management
of men. Stanton, who had entered the service with
rather a mean opinion of Lincoln's character and
capacity, became one of his warmest, most devoted,
and most admiring friends, and with none of his
secretaries was Lincoln's intercourse more intimate.
To take advice with candid readiness, and to weigh
it without any pride of his own opinion, was one of
Lincoln's preeminent virtues ; but he had not long
presided over his cabinet council when his was felt
by all its members to be the ruling mind.
The cautious policy foreshadowed in his inau
gural address, and pursued during the first period
of the civil war, was far from satisfying all his party
friends. The ardent spirits among the Union men
thought that the whole North should at once be
called to arms, to crush the rebellion by one power
ful blow. The ardent spirits among the anti-slav
ery men insisted that, slavery having brought forth
the rebellion, this powerful blow should at once be
aimed at slavery. Both complained that the admin
istration was spiritless, undecided, and lamentably
slow in its proceedings. Lincoln reasoned other-

104 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
wise. The ways of thinking and feeling ofthe masses,
ofthe plain people, were constantly present to his
mind. The masses, the plain people, had to furnish
the men for the fighting, if fighting was to be done.
He believed that the plain people would be ready to
fight when it clearly appeared necessary, and that
they would feel that necessity when they felt them
selves attacked. He therefore waited until the ene
mies of the Union struck the first blow. As soon as,
on the 1 2 th of April, 1 86 1, the first gun was fired
in Charleston harbor on the Union flag upon Fort
Sumter, the call was sounded, and the Northern
people rushed to arms.
Lincoln knew that the plain people were now
indeed ready to fight in defense of the Union, but
not yet ready to fight for the destruction of slavery.
He declared openly that he had a right to summon
the people to fight for the Union, but not to sum
mon them to fight for the abolition of slavery as a
primary object; and this declaration gave him num
berless soldiers for the Union who at that period
would have hesitated to do battle against the insti
tution of slavery. For a time he succeeded in ren
dering harmless the cry of the partisan opposition
that the Republican administration was perverting
the war for the Union into an "abolition war." But

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 105
when he went so far as to countermand the acts of
some generals in the field, looking to the emanci
pation of the slaves in the districts covered by their
commands, loud complaints arose from earnest anti-
slavery men, who accused the President of turning
his back upon the anti-slavery cause. Many of these
anti-slavery men will now, after a calm retrospect,
be willing to admit that it would have been a haz
ardous policy to endanger, by precipitating a de
monstrative fight against slavery, the success of the
struggle for the Union.
Lincoln's views and feelings concerning slavery
had not changed. Those who conversed with him
intimately upon the subject at that period know
that he did not expect slavery long to survive the
triumph ofthe Union, even if it were not immedi
ately destroyed by the war. In this he was right.
Had the Union armies achieved a decisive victory in
an early period ofthe conflict, and had the seceded
States been received back with slavery, the " slave
power" would then have been a defeated power, —
defeated in an attempt to carry out its most effec
tive threat. It would have lost its prestige. Its
menaces would have been hollow sound, and ceased
to make any one afraid. It could no longer have
hoped to expand, to maintain an equilibrium in any

106 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
branch of Congress,and to control the government.
The victorious free States would have largely over
balanced it. It would no longer have been able to
withstand the onset of a hostile age. It could no
longer have ruled, — and slavery had to rule in order
to live. It would have lingered for a while, but
it would surely have been "in the course of ulti
mate extinction." A prolonged war precipitated
the destruction of slavery; a short war might only
have prolonged its death struggle. Lincoln saw this
clearly; but he saw also that, in a protracted death
struggle, it might still have kept disloyal sentiments
alive, bred distracting commotions, and caused great
mischief to the country. He therefore hoped that
slavery would not survive the war.
But the question how he could rightfully employ
his power to bring on its speedy destruction was to
him not a question of mere sentiment. He himself
set forth his reasoning upon it, at a later period, in
one of his inimitable letters. "I am naturally anti-
slavery," said he. " If slavery is not wrong, nothing
is wrong. I cannot remember the time when I did
not so think and feel. And yet I have never under
stood that the presidency conferred upon me an un
restricted right to act upon that judgment and feel
ing. It was in the oath I took that I would, to the

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 107
best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the
Constitution of the United States. I could not take
the office without taking the oath. Nor was it my
view that I might take an oath to get power, and
break the oath in using that power. I understood,
too, that, in ordinary civil administration, this oath
even forbade me practically to indulge my private
abstract judgment on the moral question of slavery.
I did understand, however, also, that my oath im
posed upon me the duty of preserving, to the best
of my ability, by every indispensable means, that
government, that nation, of which the Constitu
tion was the organic law. I could not feel that, to
the best of my ability, I had even tried to preserve
the Constitution if, to save slavery, or any minor
matter, I should permit the wreck of government,
country, and Constitution all together." In other
words, if the salvation ofthe government, the Con
stitution, and the Union demanded the destruction
of slavery, he felt it to be not only his right, but his
sworn duty to destroy it. Its destruction became a
necessity of the war for the Union.
As the war dragged on and disaster followed dis
aster, the sense of that necessity steadily grew upon
him. Early in 1 862, as some of his friends well re-
member,he saw, what Seward seemed not to see, that

108 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
to give the war for the Union an anti-slavery charac
ter was the surest means to prevent the recognition
of the Southern Confederacy as an independent
nation by European powers; that, slavery being
abhorred by the moral sense of civilized mankind,
no European government would dare to offer so
gross an insult to the public opinion of its people as
openly to favor the creation of a state founded upon
slavery to the prejudice of an existing nation fight
ing against slavery. He saw also that slavery un
touched was to the rebellion an element of power,
and that in order to overcome that power it was
necessary to turn it into an element of weakness.
Still, he felt no assurance that the plain people were
prepared for so radical a measure as the emancipa
tion of the slaves by act of the government, and
he anxiously considered that, if they were not, this
great step might, by exciting dissension at the North,
injure the cause of the Union in one quarter more
than it would help it in another. He heartily wel
comed an effort made in New York to mould and
stimulate public sentiment on the slavery question
by public meetings boldly pronouncing for eman
cipation. At the same time he himself cautiously
advanced with a recommendation, expressed in a
special message to Congress, that the United States

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 109
should cooperate with any State which might adopt
the gradual abolishment of slavery, giving such State
pecuniary aid to compensate the former owners of
emancipated slaves. The discussion was started, and
spread rapidly. Congress adopted the resolution
recommended, and soon went a step farther in
passing a bill to abolish slavery in the District of Co
lumbia. The plain people began to look at emanci
pation on a larger scale, as a thing to be considered
seriously by patriotic citizens ; and soon Lincoln
thought that the time was ripe, and that the edict
of freedom could be ventured upon without danger
of serious confusion in the Union ranks.
The failure of McCleUan's movement upon Rich
mond increased immensely the prestige of the en
emy. The need of some great act to stimulate the
vitality of the Union cause seemed to grow daily
more pressing. On July 21, 1862, Lincoln sur
prised his cabinet with the draught of a proclama
tion declaring free the slaves in all the States that
should be still in rebellion against the United States
on the 1 st of January, 1863. As to the matter itself
he announced that he had fully made up his mind;
he invited advice only concerning the form and the
time of publication. Seward suggested that the
proclamation, if then brought out, amidst disaster

no ABRAHAM LINCOLN
and distress, would sound like the last shriek of a
perishing cause. Lincoln accepted the suggestion,
and the proclamation was postponed. Another
defeat followed, the second at Bull Run. But
when,after that battle, the Confederate army,under
Lee, crossed the Potomac and invaded Maryland,
Lincoln vowed in his heart that, if the Union army
were now blessed with success, the decree of free
dom should surely be issued. The victory of Antie
tam was won on September 17, and the prelimi
nary Emancipation Proclamation came forth on
the 2 2d. It was Lincoln's own resolution and act;
but practically it bound the nation, and permit
ted no step backward. In spite of its limitations, it
was the actual abolition of slavery. Thus he wrote
his name upon the books of history with the title
dearest to his heart, — the liberator ofthe slave.
Itis true, the great proclamation, which stamped
the war as one for "union and freedom," did not
at once mark the turning of the tide on the field
of military operations. There were more disasters,
— Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville. But with
Gettysburg and Vicksburg the whole aspect ofthe
war changed. Step by step, now more slowly, then
more rapidly, but with increasing steadiness, the flag
of the Union advanced from field to field toward

^yr1^--6-^fy&/rhj f^LM^o<rC^

ABRAHAM LINCOLN in
the final consummation. The decree of emancipa
tion was naturally followed by the enlistment of
emancipated negroes in the Union armies. This
measure had a farther-reaching effect than merely
giving the Union armies an increased supply of men.
The laboring force of the rebellion was hopelessly
disorganized. The war became like a problem of
arithmetic. As the Union armies pushed forward,
the area from which the Southern C onfederacy could
draw recruits and supplies constantly grew smaller,
while the area from which the Union recruited its
strength constantly grew larger : and everywhere,
even within the Southern lines, the Union had its
allies. The fate of the rebellion was then virtually
decided; but it still required much bloody work to
convince the brave warriors who fought for it that
they were really beaten.
Neither did the Emancipation Proclamation
forthwith command universal assent among the
people who were loyal to the Union. There were
even signs of a reaction against the administration in
the fall elections of 1862, seemingly justifying the
opinion, entertained by many, that the President
had really anticipated the development of popular
feeling. The cry that the war for the Union had
been turned into an "abolition war" was raised

112 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
again by the opposition, and more loudly than ever.
But the good sense and patriotic instincts of the
plain people gradually marshaled themselves on
Lincoln's side, and he lost no opportunity to help
on this process by personal argument and admo
nition. There never has been a President in such
constant and active contact with the public opin
ion of the country, as there never has been a Presi
dent who, while at the head of the government,
remained so near to the people. Beyond the cir
cle of those who had long known him, the feeling
steadily grew that the man in the White House was
"honest Abe Lincoln" still, and that every citizen
might approach him with complaint, expostulation,
or advice, without danger of meeting a rebuff from
power-proud authority or humiliating condescen
sion; and this privilege was used by so many and
with such unsparing freedom that only superhuman
patience could have endured it all. There are men
now living who would to-day read with amazement,
if not regret, what they then ventured to say or write
to him. But Lincoln repelled no one whom he be
lieved to speak to him in good faith and with patri
otic purpose. No good advice would go unheeded.
No candid criticism would offend him. No honest
opposition, while it might pain him, would pro-

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 113
duce a lasting alienation of feeling between him and
the opponent. It may truly be said that few men
in power have ever been exposed to more daring
attempts to direct their course, to severer censure
of their acts, and to more cruel misrepresentation
of their motives. And all this he met with that
good-natured humor peculiarly his own, and with
untiring effort to see the right and to impress it
upon those who differed from him. The conversa
tions he had and the correspondence he carried on
upon matters of public interest, not only with men
in ofiicial position, but with private citizens, were
almost unceasing, and in a large number of public
letters, written ostensibly to meetings, or commit
tees, or persons of importance, he addressed him
self directly to the popular mind. Most of these
letters stand among the finest monuments of our
political literature. Thus he presented the singu
lar spectacle of a President who, in the midst of a
great civil war, with unprecedented duties weighing
upon him, was constantly in person debating the
great features of his policy with the people.
While in this manner he exercised an ever-in
creasing influence upon the popular understand
ing, his sympathetic nature endeared him more and
more to the popular heart. In vain did journals and

114 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
speakers of the opposition represent him as a light-
minded trifler, who amused himself with frivolous
story-telling and coarse jokes, while the blood
of the people was flowing in streams. The people
knew that the man at the head of affairs, on whose
haggard face the twinkle of humor so frequently
changed into an expression of profoundest sadness,
was more than any other deeply distressed by the suf
fering he witnessed; that he felt the pain of every
wound that was inflicted on the battlefield, and
the anguish of every woman or child who had lost
husband or father; that whenever he could he was
eager to alleviate sorrow, and that his mercy was
never implored in vain. They looked to him as one
who was with them and of them in all their hopes
and fears, their joys and sorrows, — who laughed
with them and wept with them; and as his heart
was theirs, so their hearts turned to him. His pop
ularity was far different from that of Washington,
who was revered with awe, or that of Jackson, the
unconquerable hero, for whom party enthusiasm
never grew weary of shouting. To Abraham Lin
coln the people became bound by a genuine senti
mental attachment. It was not a matter of respect,
or confidence, or party pride, for this feeling spread
far beyond the boundary lines of his party ; it was

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 115
an affair ofthe heart, independent of mere reason
ing. When the soldiers in the field or their folks
at home spoke of " Father Abraham," there was
no cant in it. They felt that their President was
really caring for them as a father would, and that
they could go to him, every one of them, as they
would go to a father, and talk to him of what trou
bled them, sure to find a willing ear and tender sym
pathy. Thus, their President, and his cause, and his
endeavors, and his success gradually became to them
almost matters of family concern. And this popu
larity carried him triumphantly through the presi
dential election of 1 8 64, in spite of an opposition
within his own party which at first seemed very
formidable. Many ofthe radical anti-slavery men were never
quite satisfied with Lincoln's ways of meeting the
problems of the time. They were very earnest and
mostly very able men, who had positive ideas as to
"how this rebellion should be put down." They
would not recognize the necessity of measuring the
steps of the government according to the progress
of opinion among the plain people. They criticised
Lincoln's cautious management as irresolute, halt
ing, lacking in definite purpose and in energy ; he
should not have delayed emancipation so long; he

116 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
should not have confided important commands to
men of doubtful views as to slavery; he should have
authorized military commanders to set the slaves
free as they went on ; he dealt too leniently with
unsuccessful generals; he should have put down
all factious opposition with a strong hand instead
of trying to pacify it; he should have given the
people accomplished facts instead of arguing with
them, and so on. It is true, these criticisms were not
always entirely unfounded. Lincoln's policy had,
with the virtues of democratic government, some
of its weaknesses, which in the presence of pressing
exigencies were apt to deprive governmental action
of the necessary vigor ; and his kindness of heart,
his disposition always to respect the feelings of
others, frequently made him recoil from anything
like severity, even when severity was urgently called
for. But many of his radical critics have since then
revised their judgment sufficiently to admit that
Lincoln's policy was, on the whole, the wisest and
safest; that a policy of heroic methods, while it has
sometimes accomplished great results, could in a
democracy like ours be maintained only by con
stant success; that it would have quickly broken
down under the weight of disaster; that it might
have been successful from the start, had the Union,

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 117
at the beginning of the conflict, had its Grants and
Shermans and Sheridans, its Farraguts and Porters,
fully matured at the head of its forces; but that,
as the great commanders had to be evolved slowly
from the developments of the war, constant success
could not be counted upon, and it was best to fol
low a policy which was in friendly contact with the
popular force, and therefore more fit to stand the
trial of misfortune on the battlefield. But at that
period they thought differently, and their dissatis
faction with Lincoln's doings was greatly increased
by the steps he took toward the reconstruction of
rebel States then partially in possession of the Union
forces. In December, 1863, Lincoln issued an amnesty
proclamation, offering pardon to all implicated in
the rebellion, with certain specified exceptions, on
condition of their taking and maintaining an oath
to support the Constitution and obey the laws of
the United States and the proclamations ofthe Pre
sident with regard to slaves; and also promising
that when, in any ofthe rebel States, a number of
citizens equal to one tenth ofthe voters in i860
should reestablish a state government in conformity
with the oath above mentioned, such should be
recognized by the Executive as the true govern-

118 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
ment ofthe State. The proclamation seemed at first
to be received with general favor. But soon another
scheme of reconstruction, much more stringent
in its provisions, was put forward in the House of
Representatives by Henry Winter Davis. Benjamin
Wade championed it in the Senate. It passed in the
closing moments ofthe session in July, 1864, and
Lincoln, instead of making it a law by his signa
ture, embodied the text of it in a proclamation as
a plan of reconstruction worthy of being earnestly
considered. The differences of opinion concerning
this subject had only intensified the feeling against
Lincoln which had long been nursed among the
radicals, and some of them openly declared their
purpose of resisting his reelection to the presidency.
Similar sentiments were manifested by the advanced
anti-slavery men of Missouri, who, in their hot fac
tion-fight with the " conservatives " of that State,
had not received from Lincoln the active support
they demanded. Still another class of Union men,
mainly in the East, gravely shook their heads when
considering the question whether Lincoln should be
reelected. They were those who cherished in their
minds an ideal of statesmanship and of personal
bearing in high office with which, in their opinion,
Lincoln's individuality was much out of accord.

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 119
They were shocked when they heard him cap an
argument upon grave affairs of state with a story
about "a man out in Sangamon County," — a story,
to be sure, strikingly clinching his point, but sadly
lacking in dignity. They could not understand the
man who was capable, in opening a cabinet meet
ing, of reading to his secretaries a funny chapter
from a recent book of Artemus Ward, with which
in an unoccupied moment he had relieved his care-
burdened mind, and who then solemnly informed
the executive council that he had vowed in his heart
to issue a proclamation emancipating the slaves as
soon as God blessed the Union arms with another
victory. They were alarmed at the weakness of
a President who would indeed resist the urgent
remonstrances of statesmen against his policy, but
could not resist the prayer of an old woman for
the pardon of a soldier who was sentenced to be
shot for desertion. Such men, mostly sincere and
ardent patriots, not only wished, but earnestly set to
work, to prevent Lincoln's renomination. Not a
few of them actually believed, in 1863, that, if the
national convention ofthe Union party were held
then, Lincoln would not be supported by the del
egation of a single State. But when the conven
tion met at Baltimore, in June, 1 864, the voice of

120 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
the people was heard. On the first ballot Lincoln
received the votes ofthe delegations from all the
States except Missouri; and even the Missourians
turned over their votes to him before the result of
the ballot was declared.
But even after his renomination, the opposition
to Lincoln within the ranks ofthe Union party did
not subside. A convention, called by the dissatis
fied radicals in Missouri, and favored by men of a
similar way of thinking in other States, had been
held already in May, and had nominated as its can
didate for the presidency General Fremont. He, in
deed, did not attract a strong following, but oppo
sition movements from different quarters appeared
more formidable. Henry Winter Davis and Benja
min Wade assailed Lincoln in a flaming manifesto.
Other Union men, of undoubted patriotism and
high standing, persuaded themselves, and sought to
persuade the people, that Lincoln's renomination
was ill advised and dangerous to the Union cause.
As the Democrats had put off their convention until
the 29th of August, the Union party had, during
the larger part of the summer, no opposing candi
date and platform to attack, and the political cam
paign languished. Neither were the tidings from
the theatre of war of a cheering character. The ter-

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 121
rible losses suffered by Grant's army in the battles
ofthe Wilderness spread general gloom. Sherman
seemed for a while to be in a precarious position
before Atlanta. The opposition to Lincoln within
the Union party grew louder in its complaints and
discouraging predictions. Earnest demands were
heard that his candidacy should be withdrawn. Lin
coln himself, not knowing how strongly the masses
were attached to him, was haunted by dark forebod
ings of defeat. Then the scene suddenly changed
as if by magic. The Democrats, in their national
convention, declared the war a failure, demanded,
substantially, peace at any price, and nominated
on such a platform General McClellan as their can
didate. Their convention had hardly adjourned
when the capture of Atlanta gave a new aspect to
the military situation. It was like a sun-ray burst
ing through a dark cloud. The rank and file of the
Union party rose with rapidly growing enthusiasm.
The song " We are coming, Father Abraham, three
hundred thousand strong," resounded all over the
land. Long before the decisive day arrived, the re
sult was beyond doubt, and Lincoln was reelected
President by overwhelming majorities. The elec
tion over, even his severest critics found themselves
forced to admit that Lincoln was the only possi-

122 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
ble candidate for the Union party in 1864, and
that neither political combinations nor campaign
speeches, nor even victories in the field, were needed
to insure his success. The plain people had all the
while been satisfied with Abraham Lincoln : they
confided in him; they loved him; they felt them
selves near to him; they saw personified in him the
cause of Union and freedom; and they went to the
ballot-box for him in their strength.
The hour of triumph called out the character
istic impulses of his nature. The opposition within
the Union party had stung him to the quick. Now
he had his opponents before him, baffled and
humiliated. Not a moment did he lose to stretch
out the hand of friendship to all. "Now that the
election is over," he said, in response to a serenade,
"may not all, having a common interest, reunite in
a common effort to save our common country?
For my own part, I have striven, and will strive, to
place no obstacle in the way. So long as I have
been here I have not willingly planted a thorn in
any man's bosom. While I am deeply sensible to the
high compliment of a reelection, it adds nothing to
my satisfaction that any other man may be pained
or disappointed by the result. May I ask those who
were with me to join with me in the same spirit

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 123
toward those who were against me?" This was
Abraham Lincoln's character as tested in the fur
nace of prosperity.
The war was virtually decided, but not yet ended.
Sherman was irresistibly carrying the Union flag
through the South. Grant had his iron hand upon
the ramparts of Richmond. The days of the Con
federacy were evidently numbered. Only the last
blow remained to be struck. Then Lincoln's sec
ond inauguration came, and with it his second
inaugural address. Lincoln's famous "Gettysburg
speech" has been much and justly admired. But
far greater, as well as far more characteristic, was
that inaugural in which he poured out the whole
devotion and tenderness of his great soul. It had
all the solemnity of a father's last admonition and
blessing to his children before he lay down to die.
These were its closing words: " Fondly do we hope,
fervently do we pray, that this mighty scourge of
war may speedily pass away. Yet if God wills that
it continue until all the wealth piled up by the
bondman's two hundred and fifty years of unre
quited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of
blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another
drawn with the sword, as was said three thousand
years ago,so still it must be said, 'The judgments of

124 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
the Lord are true and righteous altogether.' With
malice toward none, with charity for all, with firm
ness in the right as God gives us to see the right,
let us strive to finish the work we are in ; to bind
up the nation's wounds; to care for him who shall
have borne the battle, and for his widow and his
orphan; to do all which may achieve and cherish
a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with
all nations."
This was like a sacred poem. No American
President had ever spoken words like these to the
American people. America never had a President
who found such words in the depth of his heart.
Now followed the closing scenes of the war. The
Southern armies fought bravely to the last, but all
in vain. Richmond fell. Lincoln himself entered
the city on foot, accompanied only by a few officers
and a squad of sailors who had rowed him ashore
from the flotilla in the James River, a negro picked
up on the way serving as a guide. Never had the
world seen a more modest conqueror and a more
characteristic triumphal procession, — no army with
banners and drums, only a throng of those who had
been slaves, hastily run together, escorting the vic
torious chief into the capital of the vanquished foe.
We are told that they pressed around him, kissed

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 125
his hands and his garments, and shouted and danced
for joy, while tears ran down the President's care-
furrowed cheeks.
A few days more brought the surrender of Lee's
army, and peace was assured. The people ofthe
North were wild with joy. Everywhere festive guns
were booming, bells pealing, the churches ringing
with thanksgivings, and jubilant multitudes throng
ing the thoroughfares, when suddenly the news
flashed over the land that Abraham Lincoln had been
murdered. The people were stunned by the blow.
Then a wail of sorrow went up such as America had
never heard before. Thousands of Northern house
holds grieved as if they had lost their dearest member.
Many a Southern man cried out in his heart that
his people had been robbed of their best friend in
their humiliation and distress, when Abraham Lin
coln was struck down. It was as if the tender affec
tion which his countrymen bore him had inspired all
nations with a common sentiment. All civilized
mankind stood mourning around the coffin of the
dead President. Many of those, here and abroad,
who not long before had ridiculed and reviled him
were among the first to hasten on with their flowers
of eulogy, and in that universal chorus of lamenta
tion and praise there was not a voice that did not

126 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
tremble with genuine emotion. Never since Wash
ington's death had there been such unanimity of
judgment as to a man's virtues and greatness; and
even Washington's death, although his name was
held in greater reverence, did not touch so sympa
thetic a chord in the people's hearts.
Nor can it be said that this was owing to the tragic
character of Lincoln's end. It is true, the death of
this gentlest and most merciful of rulers by the hand
of a mad fanatic was well apt to exalt him beyond
his merits in the estimation of those who loved him,
and to make his renown the object of peculiarly
tender solicitude. But it is also true that the ver
dict pronounced upon him in those days has been
affected little by time, and that historical inquiry
has served rather to increase than to lessen the ap
preciation of his virtues, his abilities, his services.
Giving the fullest measure of credit to his great
ministers, — to Seward for his conduct of foreign
affairs, to Chase for the management ofthe finances
under terrible difficulties, to Stanton for the per
formance of his tremendous task as war secretary,
— and readily acknowledging that without the skill
and fortitude of the great commanders, and the
heroism ofthe soldiers and sailors under them, suc
cess could not have been achieved, the historian

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 127
still finds that Lincoln's judgment and will were
by no means governed by those around him; that
the most important steps were owing to his initia
tive; that his was the deciding and directing mind;
and that it was preeminently he whose sagacity and
whose character enlisted for the administration in
its struggles the countenance, the sympathy, and
the support of the people. It is found, even, that
his judgment on military matters was astonishingly
acute, and that the advice and instructions he gave
to the generals commanding in the field would not
seldom have done honor to the ablest of them. His
tory, therefore, without overlooking or palliating or
excusing any of his shortcomings or mistakes, con
tinues to place him foremost among the saviours of
the Union and the liberators ofthe slave. More than
that, it awards to him the merit of having accom
plished what but few political philosophers would
have recognized as possible, — of leading the re
public through four years of furious civil conflict
without any serious detriment to its free institu
tions. He was, indeed, while President, violently de
nounced by the opposition as a tyrant and a usurper,
for having gone beyond his constitutional powers in
authorizing or permitting the temporary suppres-

128 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
sion of newspapers, and in wantonly suspending the
writ of habeas corpus and resorting to arbitrary
arrests. Nobody should be blamed who, when such
things are done, in good faith and from patriotic
motives protests against them. In a republic, arbi
trary stretches of power, even when demanded by
necessity, should never be permitted to pass without
a protest on the one hand, and without an apology
on the other. It is well they did not so pass dur
ing our civil war. That arbitrary measures were re
sorted to, is true. That they were resorted to most
sparingly, and only when the government thought
them absolutely required by the safety of the repub
lic, will now hardly be denied. But certain it is
that the history of the world does not furnish a
single example of a government passing through
so tremendous a crisis as our civil war was with so
small a record of arbitrary acts, and so little inter
ference with the ordinary course of law outside
the field of military operations. No American
President ever wielded such power as that which
was thrust into Lincoln's hands. It is to be hoped
that no American President ever will have to be
intrusted with such power again. But no man was
ever intrusted with it to whom its seductions were
less dangerous than they proved to be to Abraham

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ABRAHAM LINCOLN 129
Lincoln. With scrupulous care he endeavored, even
under the most trying circumstances, to remain
strictly within the constitutional limitations of his
authority; and whenever the boundary became in
distinct, or when the dangers ofthe situation forced
him to cross it, he was equally careful to mark his
acts as exceptional measures, justifiable only by the
imperative necessities of the civil war, so that they
might not pass into history as precedents for simi
lar acts in time of peace. It is an unquestionable
fact that during the reconstruction period which
followed the war, more things were done capable
of serving as dangerous precedents than during the
war itself. Thus it may truly be said of him not
only that under his guidance the republic was saved
from disruption and the country was purified of
the blot of slavery, but that, during the stormiest
and most perilous crisis in our history, he so con
ducted the government and so wielded his almost
dictatorial power as to leave essentially intact our
free institutions in all things that concern the rights
and liberties of the citizen. He understood well
the nature of the problem. In his first message to
Congress he defined it in admirably pointed lan
guage: "Must a government be of necessity too
strong for the liberties of its own people, or too

130 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
weak to maintain its own existence? Is there in
all republics this inherent weakness ? " This ques
tion he answered in the name ofthe great American
republic, as no man could have answered it better,
with a triumphant "No."
It has been said that Abraham Lincoln died at
the right moment for his fame. However that may
be, he had, at the time of his death, certainly not
exhausted his usefulness to his country. He was
probably the only man who could have guided the
nation through the perplexities of the reconstruc
tion period in such a manner as to prevent in the
work of peace the revival of the passions ofthe war.
He would indeed not have escaped serious contro
versy as to details of policy; but he could have
weathered it far better than any other statesman
of his time, for his prestige with the active politi
cians had been immensely strengthened by his tri
umphant reelection ; and what is more important,
he would have been supported by the confidence
ofthe victorious Northern people that he would do
all to secure the safety ofthe Union and the rights
of the emancipated negro, and at the same time
by the confidence ofthe defeated Southern people
that nothing would be done by him from motives
of vindictiveness, or of unreasonable fanaticism, or

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 131
of a selfish party spirit. "With malice toward none,
with charity for all," the foremost of the victors
would have personified in himself the genius of
reconciliation. He might have rendered the country a great ser
vice in another direction. A few days after the fall
of Richmond, he pointed out to a friend the crowd of
office-seekers besieging his door. " Look at that,"
said he. "Now we have conquered the rebellion,
but here you see something that may become more
dangerous to this republic than the rebellion itself."
It is true, Lincoln as President did not profess what
we now call civil service reform principles. He used
the patronage of the government in many cases
avowedly to reward party work, in many others to
form combinations and to produce political effects
advantageous to the Union cause, and in still others
simply to put the right man into the right place.
But in his endeavors to strengthen the Union cause,
and in his search for able and useful men for pub
lic duties, he frequently went beyond the limits of
his party, and gradually accustomed himself to the
thought that, while party service had its value, con
siderations ofthe public interest were, as to appoint
ments to office, of far greater consequence. More
over, there had been such a mingling of different

132 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
political elements in support of the Union during
the civil war that Lincoln, standing at the head
of that temporarily united motley mass, hardly felt
himself, in the narrow sense of the term, a party
man. And as he became strongly impressed with
the dangers brought upon the republic by the use
of public offices as party spoils, it is by no means
improbable that, had he survived the all-absorbing
crisis and found time to turn to other objects, one of
the most important reforms of later days would have
been pioneered by his powerful authority. This was
not to be. But the measure of his achievements was
full enough for immortality.
To the younger generation Abraham Lincoln
has already become a half-mythical figure, which,
in the haze of historic distance, grows to more
and more heroic proportions, but also loses in dis
tinctness of outline and feature. This is indeed the
common lot of popular heroes; but the Lincoln
legend will be more than ordinarily apt to become
fanciful, as his individuality, assembling seemingly
incongruous qualities and forces in a character
at the same time grand and most lovable, was so
unique, and his career so abounding in startling
contrasts. As the state of society in which Abraham

ABRAHAM LINCOLN 133
Lincoln grew up passes away, the world will read
with increasing wonder of the man who, not only
ofthe humblest origin, but remaining the simplest
and most unpretending of citizens, was raised to a
position of power unprecedented in our history ;
who was the gentlest and most peace-loving of
mortals, unable to see any creature suffer without
a pang in his own breast, and suddenly found him
self called to conduct the greatest and bloodiest of
our wars; who wielded the power of government
when stern resolution and relentless force were the
order of the day, and then won and ruled the
popular mind and heart by the tender sympathies
of his nature; who was a cautious conservative by
temperament and mental habit, and led the most
sudden and sweeping social revolution of our time;
who, preserving his homely speech and rustic man
ner even in the most conspicuous position of that
period, drew upon himself the scoffs of polite so
ciety, and then thrilled the soul of mankind with
utterances of wonderful beauty and grandeur;
who, in his heart the best friend of the defeated
South, was murdered because a crazy fanatic took
him for its most cruel enemy; who, while in power,
was beyond measure lampooned and maligned

134 ABRAHAM LINCOLN
by sectional passion and an excited party spirit,
and around whose bier friend and foe gathered to
praise him — which they have since never ceased
to do — as one of the greatest of Americans and
the best of men. Carl Schurz.

YALE UNIVERSITY

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