CHAPTER III

I. THE LINCOLN BOY AND HIS SISTER

The wilderness never brought forth a more wonderful being than the child that became one of the greatest names in the history of America. Deep in the wild woods of Kentucky, in the humblest conditions of nature, farthest from the inventions of society, there arose a mind that gave great riches of thought to the making of civilization.

Lincoln and his sister "hired out," and the position of servant can hardly be servile or menial with such an illustrious American example, unless the master make it so. One woman, whose family had hired them both, testified to their lovable characters. Lincoln slept in the hay-loft during the period of his work, and he was noted for being remarkably considerate in "keeping his place," and for not coming in "where he was not wanted." It is said that he would lift his hat and bow when he entered the house, and that he was reliable, tender and kind, "like his sister." We wonder if his employers had only known of "the angel" they were "entertaining unawares," what would have been "his place" and where he would have been "wanted." Every such soul may, somewhere along the immortal way, be "an angel" "unaware" some time in the meaning of the great moral universe.

As showing the making of Lincoln's mind, one of his first attempts at essay writing was on the subject of "Cruelty to Animals" and another on "Temperance."

During his earliest acquaintance with the first lawyer he had known, he wrote a paper on "American Government," and he anxiously asked the lawyer to read it and pass an opinion on its merits. The lawyer did so, declaring that the "world couldn't beat it," and expressing the opinion that some day the people would "hear from that boy."

His repugnance toward acts of cruelty is shown by the first fist fight he ever had.

Some boys had caught a mud-turtle and were having great sport in putting a coal of fire on its back to see it open up its shell and run. Lincoln was then not as large as some of the tormentors of the poor animal, but, coming by and seeing what they were doing, he dashed in among them, knocked the firebrand from the boy's hand, and fought them all away from the turtle. Then he gave them a fierce scolding for their cruelty. With tears in his eyes he declared that the terrapin's life was as sweet to it as theirs was to them. His appeal was successful and there was freedom henceforth in that community for the American turtle.

II. HOW THE LINCOLN BOY MADE THE LINCOLN MAN

The American boy, seeing anything of great interest accomplished, wants to know how it was done. That is true all the way from winning some game at play to making a million in some great enterprise. But far more, in fact immeasurably more, is the making of a masterful mind, the development of a nation-making character, and of a world-historical man. Such was Abraham Lincoln, who was built up from what seems to be nothing on to the very highest worth of mankind. How did he do it? "If I only knew how," said a philosopher-mathematician, "I could turn the world over with a lever." "If I only knew how," said a philosopher-farmer, "I could make a three-year-old calf between now and next Christmas." In other words, the belief has always prevailed that by thought made into will anything can be accomplished, provided thinking perseveres in the right way for the right thing. Successful "might" always promotes the belief that it is right because it is successful, but the "successful" is no more than a temporary expedient toward coming failure, if it is not the righteousness of an immortal social system.

So let us see how Lincoln did it. It is not much of a mystery how he became a masterful man. There must be a beginning place, and, for such a person, it must be a divine beginning place. He had a loving mother and a home. It was the basis of his belief in humanity. The heart of the world he believed to be like the two noble-souled women who mothered his young heart and growing mind. He says himself that he didn't do it but that they did it. So, the first thing for a boy who wants to be a masterful man is to take the advice of Oliver Wendell Holmes to have the right kind of ancestors. At least, it seems quite necessary for him to choose a loving mother and it will be a lightened task for him to do the rest.

In 1823, while going to the Crawford school, there occurred an incident representing his invariable sense of honor. A buck's head was nailed to the wall and one day, probably experimenting as all boys do, he pulled too hard on one of the horns and broke it off. No one saw him and when the teacher inquired for the mischief maker Lincoln promptly told how it happened. The teacher believed him and said no more about it.

The first reprehensible thing known of the Lincoln boy was done soon after the death of his sister. She married at nineteen and died the next year. Lincoln believed, as most others believed, that she died of ill-treatment. There was no way to express his fierce resentment but in writing, and he wrote some scurrilous letters to the ones against whom he was so angry. Some biographers, in the supposed cause of history, have published some alleged copies of those letters, but at worst they merely show what a boy could do in the distress occasioned by what he believed to be the murder of his sister, whom we may believe was the one great love of his life after the death of his mother.

Being a good penman, Lincoln was often called on to write a line in copybooks. Among the proud possessors of a copybook so favored was Joe Richardson. In his book Lincoln wrote these commonplace, yet significant lines:

"Good boys who to their books apply Will all be great men by and by."

Lincoln was brought up in the midst of superstitions that prevailed in every act of life, but they seem to have made no impression on him. Many of the most estimable people believed the sun went round the earth, from the indisputable fact that in the morning it was on one side of the house and in the afternoon was on the other side. Many also believed the earth to be flat, because any one trying to go so far as to go around it would naturally become lost, travel in a circle, as all lost people do, and come back to the same place, thinking they had gone around the world.

People who argued otherwise were merely "stuck up" and "just proud to show themselves off." Doubtless, his belief about the sun and earth lost him his first love affair.

He was going to school to Andrew Crawford, who also taught good manners, when he began to exchange special attention with Miss Roby, a fine lass of fifteen. He especially had her gratitude for some help he gave her in a spelling class. When she was about to spell "defied" with a "y," he pointed to his eye, just in time to save her from disgrace with the teacher, and from losing her place in the class.

But one day as they were walking along the road she made a remark that brought up an unfortunate subject.

"Abe," said she, "look yonder, the sun is going down."

"Reckon not," was the unfortunate reply. "It's us coming up. That's all."

"Don't you suppose I've got eyes," she answered indignantly.

"Reckon so," he replied, "but the sun's as still as a tree. When we're swung up so's the shine's cut off, we call it night."

"Abe," said she, "you're a consarned fool," and away she went, leaving him to the glory of his "stuck-up larnin'."

III. SOME SIGNS ALONG THE EARLY WAY

The Lincoln boy impressed all who knew him as being different from other boys, though they did not know just how. We now know that the difference consisted in his having a purpose to have a mind rather than to have a good time. And yet, Lincoln loved joyful sports and he was a favorite in all the social gatherings of the community. But his mind was not composed of sport experience, nor his interest in life inspired by sport success. The world-mind of books contained more value and richer promise than the turmoil of happenings among companions, or than those who were juggling interests in the hope of events.

Lincoln's books were very limited in number but exceedingly wide in their humanity. Weems' "Life of Washington" seems to have given him his ideal of American character and statesmanship, while the "Statutes of Indiana" aroused his interest in civil law and the American government.

When addressing the senate of the state of New Jersey, in 1861, Lincoln said, "May I be pardoned if, on this occasion, I mention that away back in my childhood, the earliest days of my being able to read, I got hold of a small book, such a one as few of the younger members have ever seen, 'Weems' Life of Washington.' I remember all the accounts there given of the battlefields and struggles for the liberties of the country, and none fixed themselves upon my imagination so deeply as the struggle here at Trenton, New Jersey. The crossing of the river, the contest with the Hessians, the great hardships endured at that time, all fixed themselves in my mind more than any single revolutionary event; and you all know, for you have all been boys, how these early impressions last longer than others. I recollect thinking then, boy even though I was, that there must have been something more than common that these men struggled for. I am exceedingly anxious that that thing shall be perpetuated in accordance with the original idea for which that struggle was made."

Lincoln told one of his friends that he read through every book he had ever heard of in his surroundings for a distance of fifty miles. The industry with which he sought to learn and his unceasing endeavor to build up his mind were marks of the genius that possessed him, the spirit that made him one of the strongest men of a world-wide work.

In the whole country round there was only one newspaper subscriber, and that was in Gentryville, Indiana, for a weekly paper from Louisville. Lincoln walked to town every week to see that paper and discuss the news. By the time he had become a man, in Menard County, Illinois, his neighbors went to him in order to know things, and he was a good custodian of the knowledge he had gained. His opinions coincided with common sense. So, common sense made him President of the United States, saved a United Nation, and gave Lincoln a never-dying place in the love and honor of mankind.

Lincoln walked six miles to borrow a grammar, and he studied it till he mastered the principles of the English language. Many another boy has thought that he had few troubles more unbearable than the study of composition, but many another boy has not been prepared to speak the world-stirring speech, such as was spoken by Lincoln at the dedication of the battlefield of Gettysburg.

IV. ILLUSTRATIONS SHOWING THE MAKING OF A MAN

Lincoln, very early in life, believed that witnesses must tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Matilda Johnson, his stepsister, was very fond of him, and she often ran away from the house to be with him where he was at work. Lincoln would rather tell her stories than work, so the mother forbade the child from following him to work. But, one morning, she disobeyed and ran after him. She tried to surprise him by jumping up at his back, and catching him by the shoulders. In doing so the axe was swung around so that it severely cut her ankle. Matilda screamed with pain but Lincoln soon had the bleeding stopped and the wound bound. Then came the problem.

"Tilda," he exclaimed, "I am astonished at you. How could you disobey your mother? Now, what are you going to tell her?"

"I'll tell her I did it with the axe," she said in the midst of her crying. "That will be the truth, won't it?"

"Yes," replied the boy, "that's the truth as far as it goes, but it is not all of the truth. You tell the whole truth and trust your mother for the rest."

Tilda went home limping and weeping with the whole truth, and the good mother thought she had been punished enough.

The self-possessed way in which Lincoln conducted himself is well illustrated in his experience with the boaster who was telling of his horse-race, and especially endeavoring to impress his story upon the youthful Lincoln.

Uncle Jimmy Larkins, the boastful owner of the fast horse, was much of a hero in the eyes of a small boy who grew up to be Captain John Lamar, the man who tells the story.

Lincoln paid no attention to the boasting. Uncle Jimmy did not like this and the Lamar boy thought it very rude in Lincoln. Finally Uncle Jimmy said, "Abe, I've got the best horse in the world: he won that race and never drew a long breath."

But Abe still paid no attention. Uncle Jimmy didn't like it some more and the Lamar boy was disgusted that Lincoln did not give due respect for something so important.

"I say, Abe," repeated Uncle Jimmy emphatically, "I have the best horse in the world; after all that running he never drew a long breath."

Then Abe had to say something, so he said, "Well, Uncle Jimmy, why don't you tell us how many short breaths he took."

"Everybody laughed and Uncle Jimmy got all-fired hot," says Captain Lamar. "He spoke something about fighting Abe, and Abe said, 'If you don't shut up, I'll throw you into the pond,' and Uncle Jimmy shut up."

Captain Lamar, in concluding his comments, said, "I was very much hurt at the way my hero was treated, but I have lived to change my ideas about heroes."

V. LINCOLN'S FIRST DOLLAR

Lincoln enjoyed the commonplace interests of ordinary life, and much that we know of him is from conversations with friends over the early lessons of his youth.

One day while he was president, as he was talking with Secretary Seward over weighty affairs of state, he suddenly broke from the subject they were discussing and said, "Seward, do you know how I earned my first dollar?"

The well-to-do and rather aristocratic Secretary of State replied that he did not know.

"It was this way," Lincoln continued. "I was about eighteen years of age and had succeeded in raising enough produce to justify a trip down the Ohio to the markets at New Orleans. I made a flatboat big enough to hold the barrels containing our things and was soon ready for loading up and starting on our journey.

"There were few landing places for steamers, and, where passengers desired to get on to one of the passing boats, they had to be taken out into the river in order to get aboard.

"While I was looking my boat over to see if anything more could be done to strengthen it, two men came down to the shore in a carriage, with their trunks, for the purpose of boarding a passing steamer. They looked the boats over and came down to me.

"'Who owns this boat?' they asked.

"I very proudly answered, 'I do.'

"'Will you take us and our trunks out to the steamer?'

"I was glad for a chance to earn something and I soon had them and their trunks loaded into my boat. I soon sculled them out to the steamer. They climbed aboard and I lifted their trunks on deck. I expected them to hand me a couple of bits for my work, but both seemed to have forgotten their dues to me. The steamer was about to start, when I called out to them, 'You have forgotten to pay me.'

"Each took a silver half-dollar and threw it over into the bottom of my boat. I could scarcely believe my good fortune. That seems like a little thing but it was one of the most important incidents in my life. I could hardly believe that I had been able to earn, by my own work, a dollar in less than a day. I now knew that such things could be done. I was a more hopeful and thoughtful boy from that time."

Lincoln received eight dollars a month for his trip down the Ohio and Mississippi from Indiana, but he probably got much priceless value out of it in the broader view of life it gave him. He had already prepared himself to think on what he saw, and, from all attainable evidence from every side, to reach reasonable and justified conclusions.

This voyage was comparatively uneventful except that one night, after the little boat crew of three men had sold their goods, they were attacked by seven negroes, who came aboard intending to kill and rob them. But, after a lively fight, the assailants were driven off and the boat was swung out into the river.

One cannot help thinking about what a difference it would have made to the negro race if those negroes had killed the man whom destiny had then started on the way to make their people free.

VI. THE CHARACTERISTICS OF A SUPERIOR MIND

The boy who reads the story of Lincoln, desiring to get real help in building his life, will find no miracle nor any short-cuts to get easily the ambitions of life. Lincoln did not know the office he wanted to hold, but he knew the kind of man he wanted to be and he worked unceasingly to reach that ideal of mind and manhood. In proportion, it is no harder now to know more than others, in order to be correspondingly useful to others, than it was in Lincoln's time.

Lincoln said that he went to school by "littles" altogether not more than a year, but no one ever thinks of him as anything less than a learned man. All records show that he was intellectually at home in company with any worldly-wise men. It was in the prudent selection of interests nobly directed in honorable ways that gave him world-wisdom from the most limited supply, while now the multiplication of great books has made the diffusion of knowledge almost unlimited for anyone who seeks to be worth while. But it was in his high moral nature where was to be found the secret of his unwavering progress. Numerous characteristic incidents illustrate how little he was disturbed by the ill-nature of others.

That Lincoln was above "holding spite" or "bearing a grudge" is shown in his experience with the noted Kentucky lawyer, John Breckenridge.

There had been a murder at Boonville, Indiana, and Lincoln went to hear the speech made to the jury by the defense. He had never before heard a learned and eloquent man. The powerful plea of the silver-tongued John Breckenridge went through the sensitive soul of Lincoln like heavenly music. Forgetting his backwoodsman appearance, he rushed forward with others at the close of the speech to express his admiration.

Breckenridge was a "gentleman" of the South, not used to being familiarly addressed by anyone having the appearance of being "poor white trash." He gazed in insulted amazement at the presumptuous youth and strode indignantly away.

This was probably the first knowledge Lincoln had of the artificial social barriers set up by men developing antagonizing classes. Here he first met the great problem of the ages in a land where all are born free and equal before life and law. It was a social partisanship not only contrary to common sense and moral law, but in violation of the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution of the United States, and the entire meaning of America. This is the great significance of Lincoln, that his life so unmistakably refuted so many un-American ideas of society and civilization.

In 1862 this same Breckenridge, now an humble petitioner for presidential favors, was introduced to President Lincoln, who then completed his expression of admiration for the excellent speech made by Mr. Breckenridge in the Indiana murder case. The able lawyer was indeed dumbfounded and it gave him a new vision of Lincoln, if not of the relationship of men. That equality of mind and opportunity which Lincoln represented was the master meaning of America, disclosing that in its freedom there is opportunity for the poorest to become the greatest through human values the most lasting and worthwhile.

Lincoln could have satisfied a righteous resentment against such haughty treatment toward the poor as was shown by Breckenridge to him at Boonville, and he could have given a deserved rebuke to pride in a land where pride of that kind is unpatriotic as well as immoral, but Lincoln chose the better part. It reminds us of the words of Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Lincoln's heart was as large as the world, but nowhere had any room for the memory of a wrong."