Chapter 2

Letter to W.G. Anderson, Lawrenceville, Ill., Oct. 31, 1840

Extract from a Letter to John T. Stuart, Springfield, Ill., Jan. 23, 1841

From his Address before the Springfield Washingtonian Temperance Society, Feb. 22, 1842

From a Circular of the Whig Committee, March 4, 1843

From a Letter to Martin M. Morris, Springfield, Ill., March 26, 1843

From a Letter to Joshua F. Speed, Springfield, Ill., Oct. 22, 1846

From a Letter to Wm. H. Herndon, Washington, Jan. 8, 1848

From a Letter to Wm. H. Herndon, Washington, June 22, 1848

From a Letter to Wm. H. Herndon, Washington, July 10, 1848

Letter to John D. Johnston, Jan. 2, 1851

Letter to John D. Johnston, Shelbyville, Nov. 4, 1851

Note for Law Lecture--Written about July 1, 1850

A Fragment--Written about July 1, 1854

A Fragment on Slavery, July 1854

From his Reply to Senator Douglas, Peoria, Oct. 16, 1854

From a Letter to the Hon. Geo. Robertson, Lexington, Ky.; Springfield, Ill., Aug. 15, 1855

From a Letter to Joshua F. Speed, Aug. 24, 1855

Lincoln's "Lost Speech," May 19, 1856

Speech on the Dred Scott Case, Springfield, Ill., June 26, 1857

The "Divided House" Speech, Springfield, Ill., June 17, 1858

From his Speech at Chicago in Reply to the Speech of Judge Douglas, July 10, 1858

From a Speech at Springfield, Ill., July 17, 1858

From Lincoln's Reply to Douglas in the First Joint Debate, Ottawa, Ill., Aug. 21, 1858

From Lincoln's Rejoinder to Judge Douglas at Freeport, Ill., Aug. 27, 1858

From Lincoln's Reply to Douglas at Jonesboro', Sept. 15, 1858

From Lincoln's Reply to Douglas at Charleston, Ill., Sept. 18, 1858

From Lincoln's Reply to Judge Douglas at Galesburg, Ill., Oct. 7, 1858

Notes for Speeches--Written about Oct. 1, 1858

From Lincoln's Reply to Douglas in the Seventh and Last Joint Debate, at Alton, Ill., Oct. 15, 1858

From Speech at Columbus, Ohio, Sept. 16, 1859

From Speech at Cincinnati, Ohio, Sept. 17, 1859

From a Letter to J.W. Fell, Dec. 20, 1859

From the Address at Cooper Institute, N.Y., Feb. 27, 1860

Lincoln's Farewell to the Citizens of Springfield, Ill., Feb. 11, 1861

Letter to Hon. Geo. Ashmun, Accepting the Nomination for Presidency, May 23, 1860

Letter to Miss Grace Bedell, Springfield, Ill., Oct. 19, 1860

From his Address to the Legislature at Indianapolis, Feb. 12, 1861

From his Address to the Legislature at Columbus, Ohio, Feb. 13, 1861

From his Remarks at Pittsburgh, Pa., Feb. 15, 1861

From his Address at Trenton, N.J., Feb. 21, 1861

Address in Independence Hall, Philadelphia, Feb. 22, 1861

His Reply to the Mayor of Washington, D.C., Feb. 27, 1861

First Inaugural Address, March 4, 1861

Address at Utica, N.Y., Feb. 18, 1861

From his First Message to Congress, at the Special Session, July 4, 1861

From his Message to Congress at its Regular Session, Dec. 3, 1861

Letter to Gen. G.B. McClellan, Washington, Feb. 3, 1862

Proclamation Revoking Gen. Hunter's Order Setting the Slaves Free, May 19, 1862

Appeal to the Border States in Behalf of Compensated Emancipation, July 12, 1862

From Letter to Cuthbert Bullitt, July 28, 1862

Letter to August Belmont, July 31, 1862

Letter to Horace Greeley, Aug. 22, 1862

From his Reply to the Chicago Committee of United Religious Denominations, Sept. 13, 1862

From the Annual Message to Congress, Dec. 1, 1862

Emancipation Proclamation, Jan. 1, 1863

Letter to General Grant, July 13, 1863

Letter to ---- Moulton, Washington, July 31, 1863

Letter to Mrs. Lincoln, Washington, Aug. 8, 1863

Letter to James H. Hackett, Washington, Aug. 17, 1863

Note to Secretary Stanton, Washington, Nov. 11, 1863

Letter to James C. Conkling, Aug. 26, 1863

His Proclamation for a Day of Thanksgiving, Oct. 3, 1863

Remarks at the Dedication of the National Cemetery at Gettysburg, Nov. 19, 1863

From his Annual Message to Congress, Dec. 8, 1863

Letter to Secretary Stanton, Washington, March 1, 1864

Letter to Governor Michael Hahn, Washington, March 13, 1864

Address at a Sanitary Fair, March 18, 1864

Letter to A.G. Hodges, April 4, 1864

Address at a Sanitary Fair at Baltimore, April 18, 1864

Letter to General Grant, April 30, 1864

From Address to the 166th Ohio Regiment, Aug. 22, 1864

Reply to a Serenade, Nov. 10, 1864

Letter to Mrs. Bixley, Nov. 21, 1864

Letter to General Grant, Washington, Jan. 19, 1865

Second Inaugural Address, March 4, 1865

Letter to Thurlow Weed, March 15, 1865

From an Address to an Indiana Regiment, March 17, 1865

His Last Public Address, April 11, 1865

APPENDIX

Anecdotes

PUBLISHERS' NOTE

For permission to use extracts from "The Complete Works of Abraham Lincoln," edited by John G. Nicolay and John Hay, the Publishers wish to thank The Century Company.

They also wish to thank Mr. William H. Lambert, the owner of the copyright, and Mrs. Sarah A. Whitney for their courtesy in allowing them to publish "Lincoln's Lost Speech."

LINCOLN'S SPEECHES AND LETTERS

_Lincoln's First Public Speech. From an Address to the People of Sangamon County. March 9, 1832_

Upon the subject of education, not presuming to dictate any plan or system respecting it, I can only say that I view it as the most important subject which we, as a people, can be engaged in. That every man may receive at least a moderate education, and thereby be enabled to read the histories of his own and other countries, by which he may duly appreciate the value of our free institutions, appears to be an object of vital importance, even on this account alone, to say nothing of the advantages and satisfaction to be derived from all being able to read the Scriptures and other works, both of a religious and moral nature, for themselves.

For my part, I desire to see the time when education--and by its means morality, sobriety, enterprise, and industry--shall become much more general than at present; and should be gratified to have it in my power to contribute something to the advancement of any measure which might have a tendency to accelerate that happy period.

With regard to existing laws, some alterations are thought to be necessary. Many respectable men have suggested that our estray laws--the law respecting the issuing of executions, the road law, and some others--are deficient in their present form, and require alterations. But considering the great probability that the framers of those laws were wiser than myself, I should prefer not meddling with them, unless they were first attacked by others, in which case I should feel it both a privilege and a duty to take that stand which, in my view, might tend to the advancement of justice.

But, fellow-citizens, I shall conclude. Considering the great degree of modesty which should always attend youth, it is probable I have already been more presuming than becomes me. However, upon the subjects of which I have treated, I have spoken as I have thought. I may be wrong in regard to any or all of them; but, holding it a sound maxim that it is better only to be sometimes right than at all times wrong, so soon as I discover my opinions to be erroneous I shall be ready to renounce them.

Every man is said to have his peculiar ambition. Whether it be true or not, I can say, for one, that I have no other so great as that of being truly esteemed of my fellow-men by rendering myself worthy of their esteem. How far I shall succeed in gratifying this ambition is yet to be developed. I am young and unknown to many of you; I was born and have ever remained in the most humble walks of life. I have no wealthy or popular relations or friends to recommend me. My case is thrown exclusively upon the independent voters of the county, and if elected, they will have conferred a favour upon me for which I shall be unremitting in my labours to compensate. But if the good people in their wisdom shall see fit to keep me in the background, I have been too familiar with disappointments to be very much chagrined.

Your friend and fellow-citizen, A. LINCOLN.

_Letter to Colonel Robert Allen. June 21, 1836_

Dear Colonel, I am told that during my absence last week you passed through this place, and stated publicly that you were in possession of a fact or facts which, if known to the public, would entirely destroy the prospects of N.W. Edwards and myself at the ensuing election; but that, through favour to us, you should forbear to divulge them. No one has needed favours more than I, and, generally, few have been less unwilling to accept them; but in this case favour to me would be injustice to the public, and therefore I must beg your pardon for declining it. That I once had the confidence of the people of Sangamon, is sufficiently evident; and if I have since done anything, either by design or misadventure, which if known would subject me to a forfeiture of that confidence, he that knows of that thing, and conceals it, is a traitor to his country's interest.

I find myself wholly unable to form any conjecture of what fact or facts, real or supposed, you spoke; but my opinion of your veracity will not permit me for a moment to doubt that you at least believed what you said. I am flattered with the personal regard you manifested for me; but I do hope that, on more mature reflection, you will view the public interest as a paramount consideration, and therefore determine to let the worst come. I here assure you that the candid statement of facts on your part, however low it may sink me, shall never break the tie of personal friendship between us. I wish an answer to this, and you are at liberty to publish both, if you choose.

_Lincoln's Opinion on Universal Suffrage. From a Letter published in the Sangamon "Journal." June 13, 1836_

I go for all sharing the privileges of the government who assist in bearing its burdens: consequently I go for admitting all whites to the right of suffrage who pay taxes or bear arms [by no means excluding females].

_From an Address before the Young Men's Lyceum of Springfield, Illinois. January 27, 1837_

As a subject for the remarks of the evening "The perpetuation of our political institutions" is selected. In the great journal of things happening under the sun, we, the American people, find our account running under the date of the nineteenth century of the Christian era. We find ourselves in the peaceful possession of the fairest portion of the earth, as regards extent of territory, fertility of soil, and salubrity of climate. We find ourselves under the government of a system of political institutions conducing more essentially to the ends of civil and religious liberty, than any of which the history of former times tells us. We, when remounting the stage of existence, found ourselves the legal inheritors of these fundamental blessings. We toiled not in the acquirement or the establishment of them; they are a legacy bequeathed to us by a once hardy, brave, and patriotic, but now lamented and departed race of ancestors.

Theirs was the task (and nobly they performed it) to possess themselves, and through themselves us, of this goodly land, and to rear upon its hills and valleys a political edifice of liberty and equal rights; 'tis ours only to transmit these,--the former unprofaned by the foot of the invader; the latter undecayed by lapse of time. This, our duty to ourselves and to our posterity, and love for our species in general, imperatively require us to perform.

How, then, shall we perform it? At what point shall we expect the approach of danger? By what means shall we fortify against it? Shall we expect some transatlantic military giant to step across the ocean and crush us at a blow? Never. All the armies of Europe, Asia and Africa combined, with all the treasure of the earth (our own excepted) in their military chest, with a Bonaparte for a commander, could not, by force, take a drink from the Ohio, or make a track on the Blue Ridge, in a trial of a thousand years.

At what point, then, is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer, if it ever reaches us, it must spring up among us. It cannot come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live through all time, or die by suicide.

There is even now something of ill omen among us. I mean the increasing disregard for law which pervades the country; the growing disposition to substitute wild and furious passions in lieu of the sober judgment of courts; and the worse than savage mobs for the executive ministers of justice. This disposition is awfully fearful in any community; and that it now exists in ours, though grating to our feelings to admit, it would be a violation of truth and an insult to our intelligence to deny.

* * * * *

I know the American people are _much_ attached to their government. I know they would suffer _much_ for its sake. I know they would endure evils long and patiently before they would ever think of exchanging it for another. Yet, notwithstanding all this, if the laws be continually despised and disregarded, if their rights to be secure in their persons and property are held by no better tenure than the caprice of a mob, the alienation of their affection for the government is the natural consequence, and to that sooner or later it must come.

Here, then, is one point at which danger may be expected. The question recurs, how shall we fortify against it? The answer is simple. Let every American, every lover of liberty, every well-wisher to his posterity, swear by the blood of the Revolution never to violate in the least particular the laws of the country, and never to tolerate their violation by others. As the patriots of seventy-six did to the support of the Declaration of Independence, so to the support of the Constitution and the Laws let every American pledge his life, his property, and his sacred honour; let every man remember that to violate the law is to trample on the blood of his father, and to tear the charter of his own and his children's liberty. Let reverence for the laws be breathed by every American mother to the lisping babe that prattles on her lap. Let it be taught in schools, in seminaries, and in colleges. Let it be written in primers, spelling-books, and in almanacs. Let it be preached from the pulpit, proclaimed in legislative halls, and enforced in courts of justice. And, in short, let it become the political religion of the nation.

When I so pressingly urge a strict observance of all the laws, let me not be understood as saying that there are no bad laws, or that grievances may not arise for the redress of which no legal provisions have been made. I mean to say no such thing. But I do mean to say that although bad laws, if they exist, should be repealed as soon as possible, still, while they continue in force, for the sake of example they should be religiously observed. So also in unprovided cases. If such arise, let proper legal provisions be made for them with the least possible delay, but till then let them, if not too intolerable, be borne with.

There is no grievance that is a fit object of redress by mob law. In any case that may arise, as, for instance, the promulgation of abolitionism, one of two positions is necessarily true--that is, the thing is right within itself, and therefore deserves the protection of all law and all good citizens, or it is wrong, and therefore proper to be prohibited by legal enactments; and in neither case is the interposition of mob law either necessary, justifiable, or excusable....

They (histories of the Revolution) were pillars of the temple of liberty; and now that they have crumbled away, that temple must fall unless we, their descendants, supply their places with other pillars, hewn from the solid quarry of sober reason. Passion has helped us, but can do so no more. It will in future be our enemy. Reason--cold, calculating, unimpassioned reason--must furnish all the materials for our future support and defence. Let those materials be moulded into general intelligence, sound morality, and, in particular, a reverence for the Constitution and laws; and that we improved to the last, that we remained free to the last, that we revered his name to the last, that during his long sleep we permitted no hostile foot to pass over or desecrate his resting-place, shall be that which to learn the last trump shall awaken our Washington.

Upon these let the proud fabric of freedom rest, as the rock of its basis; and as truly as has been said of the only greater institution, "the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."

Many great and good men, sufficiently qualified for any task they should undertake, may ever be found, whose ambition would aspire to nothing beyond a seat in Congress, a gubernatorial or a presidential chair. But such belong not to the family of the lion or the brood of the eagle. What? Think you these places would satisfy an Alexander, a Cæsar, or a Napoleon? Never! Towering genius disdains a beaten path. It seeks regions hitherto unexplored. It sees no distinction in adding story to story upon the monuments of fame erected to the memory of others. It denies that it is glory enough to serve under any chief. It scorns to tread in the footsteps of any predecessor, however illustrious. It thirsts and burns for distinction; and, if possible, it will have it, whether at the expense of emancipating slaves, or enslaving free men. Is it unreasonable, then, to expect that some men, possessed of the loftiest genius, coupled with ambition sufficient to push it to its utmost stretch, will at some time spring up among us? And when such a one does, it will require the people to be united with each other, attached to the government and laws, and generally intelligent, to successfully frustrate his design.

Distinction will be his paramount object, and although he would as willingly, perhaps more so, acquire it by doing good as harm, yet that opportunity being passed, and nothing left to be done in the way of building up, he would sit down boldly to the task of pulling down. Here, then, is a probable case, highly dangerous, and such a one as could not well have existed heretofore.

* * * * *

All honour to our Revolutionary ancestors, to whom we are indebted for these institutions. They will not be forgotten. In history we hope they will be read of, and recounted, so long as the Bible shall be read. But even granting that they will, their influence cannot be what it heretofore has been. Even then, they cannot be so universally known, nor so vividly felt, as they were by the generation just gone to rest. At the close of that struggle, nearly every adult male had been a participator in some of its scenes. The consequence was, that of those scenes, in the form of a husband, a father, a son, or a brother, a living history was to be found in every family,--a history bearing the indubitable testimonies to its own authenticity in the limbs mangled, in the scars of wounds received in the midst of the very scenes related; a history, too, that could be read and understood alike by all, the wise and the ignorant, the learned and the unlearned. But those histories are gone. They can be read no more for ever. They were a fortress of strength; but what the invading foemen could never do, the silent artillery of time has done,--the levelling of its walls. They are gone. They were a forest of giant oaks; but the resistless hurricane has swept over them, and left only here and there a lonely trunk, despoiled of its verdure, shorn of its foliage, unshading and unshaded, to murmur in a few more gentle breezes, and to combat with its mutilated limbs a few more ruder storms, and then to sink and be no more.

HUMOROUS ACCOUNT OF HIS EXPERIENCES WITH A LADY HE WAS REQUESTED TO MARRY

_A Letter to Mrs. O.H. Browning. Springfield, Illinois. April 1, 1838_

Dear Madam, Without apologising for being egotistical, I shall make the history of so much of my life as has elapsed since I saw you the subject of this letter. And, by the way, I now discover that in order to give a full and intelligible account of the things I have done and suffered since I saw you, I shall necessarily have to relate some that happened before.

It was, then, in the autumn of 1836 that a married lady of my acquaintance, and who was a great friend of mine, being about to pay a visit to her father and other relatives residing in Kentucky, proposed to me that on her return she would bring a sister of hers with her on condition that I would engage to become her brother-in-law with all convenient dispatch. I, of course, accepted the proposal, for you know I could not have done otherwise had I really been averse to it; but privately, between you and me, I was most confoundedly well pleased with the project. I had seen the said sister some three years before, thought her intelligent and agreeable, and saw no good objection to plodding life through hand-in-hand with her. Time passed on, the lady took her journey, and in due time returned, sister in company, sure enough. This astonished me a little, for it appeared to me that her coming so readily showed that she was a trifle too willing, but on reflection it occurred to me that she might have been prevailed on by her married sister to come, without anything concerning me having been mentioned to her, and so I concluded that if no other objection presented itself, I would consent to waive this. All this occurred to me on hearing of her arrival in the neighbourhood--for, be it remembered, I had not yet seen her, except about three years previous, as above mentioned. In a few days we had an interview, and, although I had seen her before, she did not look as my imagination had pictured her. I knew she was over-size, but she now appeared a fair match for Falstaff. I knew she was called an "old maid," and I felt no doubt of the truth of at least half of the appellation, but now, when I beheld her, I could not for my life avoid thinking of my mother; and this, not from withered features,--for her skin was too full of fat to permit of its contracting into wrinkles--but from her want of teeth, weather-beaten appearance in general, and from a kind of notion that ran in my head that nothing could have commenced at the size of infancy and reached her present bulk in less than thirty-five or forty years; and, in short, I was not at all pleased with her. But what could I do? I had told her sister that I would take her for better or for worse, and I made a point of honour and conscience in all things to stick to my word, especially if others had been induced to act on it, which in this case I had no doubt they had, for I was now fairly convinced that no other man on earth would have her, and hence the conclusion that they were bent on holding me to my bargain. "Well," thought I, "I have said it, and, be the consequences what they may, it shall not be my fault if I fail to do it." At once I determined to consider her my wife, and this done, all my powers of discovery were put to work in search of perfections in her which might be fairly set off against her defects. I tried to imagine her handsome, which, but for her unfortunate corpulency, was actually true. Exclusive of this, no woman that I have ever seen has a finer face. I also tried to convince myself that the mind was much more to be valued than the person, and in this she was not inferior, as I could discover, to any with whom I had been acquainted.

Shortly after this, without attempting to come to any positive understanding with her, I set out for Vandalia, when and where you first saw me. During my stay there I had letters from her which did not change my opinion of either her intellect or intention, but, on the contrary, confirmed it in both.