Qass £ ^ : V 
 
 Book. 
 
I» 
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 //■a 
 
 OF I 
 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 
 
 HON. RICHARD S. FIELD. 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE LEGISLATURE OF NEW JERSEY, 
 FEBRUARY 12, 1866. 
 
 TRENTON, N. J.: 
 
 I'KINTEl) AT THE "STATE GAZETTE'' OFPICK. 
 1866. 
 
ADDRESS 
 
 LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN, 
 
 HON. RICHARD S. FIELD. 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE LEGISLATURE OF NEW JERSEY, 
 FEBRUARY 12, 1866. 
 
 TRENTON, N:J.: 
 
 PRINTED AT THE "STATE GAZETTE" OFFICE. 
 186G. 
 

RESOLUTIONS 
 
 IN MEMORY OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN, INTRODUCED BY HON. 
 
 DsWITT CLINTON MORRIS, OF HUDSON COUNTY, AND 
 
 ADOPTED JANUARY 17, ISGO, BY THE LEGIS- 
 
 LATURE OF THE STATE OF 
 
 :NEW JERSEY. 
 
 Resolved, By the Assembly (the Senate concurrhig), that 
 we deeply mourn the violent death of Abraham Lincoln, late 
 President of the United States, and in order to testify our 
 respect and mingle our tears with the people for tlie nation's 
 loss. 
 
 Resolved, That the Senate and Assembly will meet in the 
 Assembly room on Monday, the 12th of February, (that being 
 his birth day) at eight o'clock P. M., and that the Hon. R. S. 
 Field- be invited to deliver an address upon the life and char- 
 acter of Abraham Lincoln, late President of the United 
 States. 
 
 Resolved, That a committee of three from the House, 
 together with a like number from the Senate, be appointed 
 to make all proper arrangements for this purpose. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Hon. George T. Cobb, Hon. James M. Scovel, Hon. Joshni^ 
 Doughty, from the Senate, and Hon. DeWitt CHnton Morris,, 
 Hon. George W. N. Custis, Hon. Edward L. Price, from the 
 Assembly, -were appointed a Joint Committee in accordance 
 with the foregoing resohitions, and the following correspond- 
 ence took place : 
 
 Trenton, January 25th, ISfiG. 
 Hon. R. S. Field — Dear Sir : We take pleasure in here- 
 with enclosing the joint resolutions inviting you to deliver 
 an address upon the life and character of our late lamented 
 President, Abraham Lincoln, on the twelfth of February 
 next, at 8 o'clock P. M., in the Assembly Chamber. May we- 
 ask the flxvorof your acceptance and rej)!}-. 
 With great respect, 
 
 GEORGE T. COBB, 
 
 Ckairmo.n of Senate Committee. 
 DeWITT CLINTON MORRIS, 
 Chairman of Assemhhj Committee, 
 
 Princeton, February 1, 1866. 
 
 Gentlemen : I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt 
 
 of your communication of the 28th ult., enclosing a copy of 
 
 the joint resolutions of the Senate and House of Assemblyy 
 
 inviting me to deliver an address upon the life and character 
 
6 
 
 of our late lamented President, Abraham Lincoln, on the 
 twelfth of February next, at 8 o'clock P. M.,in the Assembly 
 Chamber. 
 
 Sympathizing as I do with the resolutions of the Senate 
 and Assembly, and desirous of testifying my respect for the 
 memory of one whom I loved while living, and whose death 
 I deeply deplore, it will give me pleasure to comply with the 
 invitation wdiicli you have addressed to me. 
 
 K S. FIELD. 
 Very respectfully, 
 Hon. George T. Cobb, Chairman of the Committee of the 
 
 Senate ; and Hon. DeWitt Clinton Morris, Chairman of 
 
 the Committee of the Assembly. 
 
 The address was delivered on the 12th of February. Hon. 
 James M. Scovel, President of the Senate, presided on the 
 occasion, and introduced Judge Field with a few highly com- 
 plimentary remarks. Governor Ward, Chancellor Zabriskie, 
 and other prominent citizens of the State, as well as members 
 of the Legislature, were present. At its conclusion, Hon. 
 DeWitt Clinton Morris proposed a vote of thanks, and after 
 some appropriate remarks, expressing on behalf of the Legis- 
 lature the gratification derived from the able and eloquent 
 address which had been delivered, offered a resolution for its 
 publication, which was unanimously adopted. 
 
ADDRESS. 
 
 Gentlemen of the Senate and House of Assenihhj : 
 
 Bear with me while, in obedience to your wishes, I attempt 
 to trace, if with a feeble, yet with a loving hand, the life and 
 character of Abraham Lincoln. 
 
 He was born on the 12th of Februar}^, 1809, in Hardin 
 county, Kentucky. He was of English descent, and his an- 
 cestors came to this country with the followers of William 
 Penn. The house in which he was cradled was a log-cabin 
 of the rudest structure. He owed nothing to birth or for- 
 tune. He was born to poverty and toil. His father was an 
 honest man, but he could neither read nor write. 
 
 In 1817, when he was eight years old, his fjither resolved 
 to abandon Kentucky. He was a " poor white," and Ken- 
 tucky was a slave State ; he felt, therefore, it was no place 
 for him. He found his energies repressed by the obstacles 
 which slavery perpetually thrust in his way, and he deter- 
 mined to seek a new home in a free State, where he might 
 hope to rear his sons to usefulness and honor. This circum- 
 stance was calculated to make a deep impression upon the 
 youthful mind of Abraham Lincoln, and colored, no doubt, 
 the whole thread of his future life. It accounts for the fact, 
 that although born in a slave State, he always evinced an 
 unconquerable aversion to slavery. 
 
 Their new home was found in Spencer county, Indiana, 
 then a wilderness, through the tangled forests of which they 
 were obliged literally to hew their way. They had been 
 
8 
 
 here but two years, when he was called to mourn the loss of 
 his mother. Who would not hke to know something of the 
 mother of Abraham Lincoln ? She was tall and commanding 
 in person. She had some education, much good sense, and 
 was loved and praised by all who knew her. She was a 
 member of the Baptist Church. "Always speak the truth 
 my son," was one of her daily injunctions. She was accus- 
 tomed to say, "I would rather Abe would be able to read the 
 Bible than to own a firm, if he can have but one." Another 
 of her household sayings was, when times were hard and 
 days were dark: "It isn't best to borrow too much trouble ; 
 we must have faith in God." It is easy to see who moulded 
 the character of Abraham Lincoln. Her death w^as made 
 happy by the reflection that, chiefly under her own tuition, 
 her favorite son had learned to read the Bible. 
 
 During the residence of his father in Indiana, he availed 
 himself of such means of education as were within his reach. 
 But they were scanty indeed. One who assisted in his early 
 instruction has recorded his appearance at this time, when 
 he presented himself at the log cabin school-house, arrayed 
 in buckskin clothes and a raccoonskin cap, and equipped with 
 an old arithmetic ; but he tells us at the same time of the 
 diligence and eagerness w'ith which he ajDplied himself to 
 study. To this period of his life belongs an incident which 
 is not without interest, as showing the difficulties which im- 
 peded his pursuit of knowledge. He had borrowed of one of 
 his neighbors, Ramsey's Life of Washington, and was allowed 
 the privilege of taking it home, that he might read it at his 
 leisure. One night, after he had carefully laid the book 
 away, a storm arose, the rain beat through an opening in the 
 logs, and the precious volume was ruined. What was he to 
 do ? He could not replace it. He had no money to pay for 
 it. So he went to the owner of the book, told him of the 
 irreparable injury done to it, and offered, by w^ay of compen- 
 sation, to work for him until he was satisfied. The offer was 
 
accepted, and the book was paid for by three days' hard la- 
 bor in " pulling fodder." 
 
 Amono- the books which Mr. Lincoln was in the habit of 
 
 o 
 
 referring to as having been read by him the most eagerly in 
 early life, were the lives of Washington and Henry Clay, 
 Esop's Fables, and The Pilgrim's Progress. Here we may 
 find the sources from which he derived his political princi- 
 ples, his peculiar and forcible methods of illustration, and that 
 quaintness of phraseology by which his style was always 
 tinctured. 
 
 When nineteen years of age, we find him making a trip 
 down the Mississippi to New Orleans, on a flatboat — partly 
 with a view to turn an honest penny, and partly that he 
 might see something of the world. In 1830, his father, find- 
 ing himself encroached upon by the advancing tide of popu- 
 lation, resolved to plunge deeper into the wilderness, and to 
 seek another home further west. He removed, therefore, to 
 Macon county, Illinois, where he proceeded to erect a house, 
 and with the assistance of his son, who was now twenty-one, 
 to fence in his new farm. It was here that Mr Lincoln 
 earned for himself the title of rail-splitter, a title given to 
 him by his opponents, when he was a candidate for the 
 Presidency, by way of disparagement, but accepted by his 
 friends, in honorable recognition of the fact, that he was of, 
 and from the people. 
 
 In 1831, he made a second trip to New Orleans in the 
 capacity of flat-boatman. In 1832, he commanded a com- 
 pany of volunteers in the Black Hawk war. In 1834 he was 
 chosen a member of the legislature. This was the com- 
 mencement of his political life. It was about this time, too, 
 that he began the stud}^ of the law. He continued to be a 
 member of the Legislature for four successive terms, when 
 finding that politics interfered sadly with his legiil studies, 
 he declined a re-nomination, and resolved to devote himself 
 exclusively to the business of his profession. He had been 
 
10 
 
 admitted to the bar in 1836, and in 1837, had estabhshed 
 himself at Springfield, which continued to be his future 
 home. It ha« always been a matter of surprise, that Mr. 
 Lincoln, without any aid from education, should have been 
 able to reason in so close and connected a manner as he was 
 in the habit of doing. A circumstance that now occurred 
 •will serve perhaps in some measure to explain this. I will 
 give it in his own words. " In the course of my law reading," 
 he said to a friend " I constantly came upon the word deinon- 
 straier and I asked myself, what do I do when I deonorutrate, 
 more than when I reason or provcl What is the certainty 
 called demonstration? Having consulted dictionaries and 
 books of reference to little purpose, I said to myself, 'Lin- 
 coln, you can never make a lawyer, if you do not under- 
 stand what demonstrate means." I never had but six months 
 schooling in my life ; but now, 1 left my place in Springfield, 
 .and went home to my father's and staid there, till I could 
 give any proposition of the six books of Euclid at sight." 
 
 In 1846, Mr. Lincoln accepted a nomination for Congress, 
 and was elected by a triumphant majority. He was the only 
 Whig representative from Illinois. The great topic of dis- 
 cussion at that time was the war with Mexico. It was after- 
 wards made the subject of a charge against him by Mr. 
 Douglas, that he had distinguished himself in Congress by 
 liis opposition to the Mexican war, and by taking the side of 
 ifJie common enemy against his oicn country. But his answer 
 to this charge was undoubtedly the true one. " I was," said 
 he, " an old line Whig, and when the Democratic party tried 
 to get me to vote that the war had been righteously begun 
 by the President, I would not do it. But when they asked 
 for any money, or land warrants, or anything to pay the 
 soldiers, then, during all that time, I gave the same vote that 
 Judge Douglas did." But his Congressional career was cer- 
 tainly not a brilliant one. No one could then have antici- 
 pated such a future as that which was in store for him. He 
 was but educating himself for the great task of his life. 
 
11 
 
 The year 1858, was signalized by the great Senatorial con- 
 test between Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Douglas. Mr. Douglas' 
 term in the Senate was about to expire, and the Republicans 
 of Illinois had nominated Mr. Lincoln as their candidate to 
 succeed him. LTpon the Legislature about to be elected, 
 would devolve the duty of appointing a Senator, and both 
 parties girded themselves for the contest. Mr. Douglas took 
 the field in person. He was unquestionably a most formid- 
 able antagonist. Of great personal popularitj^ he had for 
 many years been the idol of the people of Illinois. He was 
 an accomplished debater, and versed in all the wiles of poli- 
 tical strategy. But nothing daunted, Mr. Lincoln challenged 
 him to the combat. He proposed a series of joint debates 
 during the campaign. The challenge was accepted and the 
 terms agreed upon. The meetings were to be seven in num- 
 ber, and were to be held in difierent quarters of the State. 
 These political tournaments created the most intense in- 
 terest. Illinois was ablaze with the excit9ment, and people 
 flocked to the encounter from all parts of the State. Pro- 
 cessions and cavalcades, the sound of music ana the roar 
 of cannon, contributed to swell the popular enthusiasm. 
 Hosts of followers ralHed around their respective champions. 
 Every keen thrust, every skilful blow, every sally of wit, 
 every burst of eloquence, elicited the most tumultuous ap- 
 plause. But we cannot dwell upon the interesting incidents 
 of these intellectual combats. It is enough to say, that if 
 Mr. Douglas anticipated an easy conquest, he was greatly 
 disappointed; for, while he fully sustained his previous repu- 
 tation, and justified the high estimate which had been formed 
 of his abilities, Mr. Lincoln, by the novelty and freshness of 
 his style, by the pertinence and force of his illustrations, by 
 his mexhaustible humor, and his imperturbable good nature, 
 won the esteem and admiration both of friends and foes. 
 The result of the contest was, that the candidates who were 
 in favor of Mr. Lincoln had a plurality of the popular votes; 
 
but owing to the unfair manner in which the State had been 
 districted, the friends of Mr. Douglas had a small majority 
 in both branches of the Legislature, and he was re-elected 
 to the Senate. Providence had reserved Mr. Lincoln for 
 another and a higher sphere. 
 
 ^s yet, Mr. Lincoln was but little known out of the State 
 of Illinois. But in February, 1860, he made a visit to the 
 city of New York. He was a stranger in the great metropo- 
 lis ; and certainly, neither his appearance nor liis manners 
 were calculated to make a very favorable impression. Here 
 he met, lor the hrst time, Mr. Bancroft, the distinguished 
 historian. One, who was present at the scene, thus describes 
 the interview between them. '•' The contrast in the appear- 
 ance of the men was most striking — the one courtly and 
 precise in his every word and gesture, with the air of a trans- 
 Atlantic statesman ; the other, bluff and awkward, his every 
 utterance an apology for his ignorance of metropolitan man- 
 ners and customs. ' I am on my way to Massachusetts,' said 
 he to Mr. Bancroft, 'where I have a son at school, who, if 
 report be true, already knows much more than his father.'" 
 How unutterable would have been Mr. Bancroft's astonish^ 
 ment if, at that moment, some good genius, gifted with 
 prophetic spirit, and permitted to lift the curtain of futurity, 
 had addressed him in language like this : '• Mr. Bancroft, this 
 man, now standing before you, rude and unpolished though 
 he seem, and of whom you may never have chanced before 
 to have heard, will be the next President of the United 
 States; he will be by far the greatest President that this 
 country has had since the days of Washington ; he will con- 
 duct the government safely and triumphantly through a 
 war, compared with which all former wars sink into insignifi- 
 cance ; he will succeed in crushing a rebellion, the most 
 extensive and formidable that ever before threatened the 
 life of a nation ; he will be a chosen instrument in the hands 
 of Providence for extinguishing that system of slavery which 
 
has so long been the reproach of our Land ; he will, by his 
 proclamation alone, give liberty to four millions of slaves; 
 and when he dies, as die he will by an assassin's hand, he will 
 be lamented as no human being ever was before ; not only 
 America, but Europe, the world, will mourn his loss ; the 
 anniversary of his birth will forever be one of the great days 
 in our political calendar; and on the 12th of February, 1866 
 370U yourself will be called upon^to pronounce his eulogium 
 before the Representatives of the American people in Con- 
 gress assembled." And yet Mr. Bancroft has lived to see all 
 this accomplished. 
 
 But even before Mr. Lincoln left the city of New York, 
 he was to achieve for himself a national reputation. He had 
 been invited, by the Young Men's Republican Club, to de- 
 liver an address upon some topic appropriate to the crisis 
 which was seen to be approaching. The address was delivered 
 on the evening of the 27tli of February, in Cooper Institute, 
 before a large and fashionable audience. Mr. Douglas had 
 said in one of his recent speeches: "Our fathers, when they 
 framed the government under which we lived, understood 
 this question of slavery just as well, and even better, than 
 we do now." This Mr. Lincoln made the text of his dis- 
 course ; and in one of th6 most lucid, logical and compact ar- 
 guments, that was ever made, proceeded to show what was 
 the understanding of our fathers upon the subject of slavery. 
 It was altogether a most remarkable speech. There was not 
 the slightest attempt at eloquence ; there was none even of 
 his accustomed humor; there was not one rhetorical passage. 
 And yet it riveted the attention of a most intelligent and 
 overflowing audience, and excited at times unbounded en- 
 thusiasm. It was the eloquence of reason and common 
 sense. Its concluding words were, "Let us have faith that 
 right makes might, and in that faith let us to the end dare 
 to do our duty as we understand it." In reply to \an invita- 
 tion given to him about this period, by the Republicans of 
 
14 
 
 Boston, to attend a festival in honor of the anniversary of 
 Jefferson's bn^th day, occur these striking passages: "Those 
 who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves ; 
 and nnder a just God cannot long retain it. All honor to 
 Jefferson ; to a man who, in the pressure of a struggle for 
 National independence by a single people, had the coolness, 
 iirmness and sagacity, to introduce into a merely revolution- 
 ary document an abstract truth, applicable to all men and 
 all times, and so to embalm it there, that to-day, and in all 
 coming days, it shall be a rebuke and a stumbling block to 
 the harbingers of re-appearing tyranny and oppression." 
 
 But we must hasten to the period when Mr. Lincoln w^as 
 to enter upon a new and a more trying scene of action than 
 had heretofore awaited him. The Republican National Con- 
 vention, for the nomination of a candidate for the Presidency, 
 assembled at Cliicago on the 16th of May, 1860. The names 
 of several distinguished individuals were presented to the 
 Convention ; but from the first, it became manifest, that the 
 contest lay between, Mr. Seward and Mr. Lincoln. Mr. 
 Seward's chances were generally thought to be the best. 
 Upon the first ballot, he had 173 votes, to 102 for Mr. Lin- 
 coln. But on the third ballot, before the result was declared, 
 the delegations of State after State changed their votes for 
 Mr. Lincoln, until at length it was announced, amid thunders 
 of applause, that Abraham Lincoln had received 354 votes, 
 and was nominated by the Republican party for the office of 
 President of the United States. The nomination was then 
 made unanimous. Mr. Lincoln w\as at Springfield, in the 
 office of the State Journal, when he received a telegraphic 
 despatch informing him of his nomination. lie looked at it 
 in silence, while those around him were rending the air with 
 their shouts ; and then putting it into his pocket, quietly 
 said, " There's a little woman down at our house would like 
 to know this — I'll go down and tell her." 
 
 The result of the election you know. Mr. Lincoln was 
 
15 
 
 chosen President lie received the electoral votes of nil the 
 free States, with the exception of tliose from New Jersey, 
 which were divided between him and Mr. Dougla«. The 
 South had anticipated the result. They were prepared for 
 it. In fact, they had done everything in their power to bring 
 it about. Nowhere did the election of Mr. Lincoln seem to 
 give greater joy and satisfaction than in tlie city of Charles- 
 ton. Cheers were given, and congratulations exchanged, at 
 a result deemed so auspicious. They hailed it as the dawn 
 of Southern independence — the consummation of their long 
 deferred hopes. And now began the woik of secession. 
 South Carolina, of course, led the way. S!ie had merited 
 that "bad eminence." Her Convention assembled on the 
 17th of December, and the ordinance of secession was passed 
 on tlie 20th. The discussion to which it gave rise is in- 
 structive. x\ll disguises were now thrown off and the 
 hideous features of secession, wliich had been veiled under 
 the specious pretence of a constitutional right, were revealed 
 in all their naked deformity. '' The secession of South Car- 
 olina," said Mr. Rhett, " is not an event of a day. It is noli 
 anything produced by Mr. Lincoln's election, or the non- 
 execution of the fugitive slave law. It is a matter which 
 has been gathering head for thirty years. As to t!ie fugi- 
 tive slave law, I myself doubted its constitutionality, and 
 doubted it on the floor of the Senate, when I was a member 
 of that body." "I have been engaged in this movement,'* 
 said Mr. Keitt, "ever since I entered political life. We 
 have carried the body of this Union to its last resting place, 
 and now we will drop the flag over its grave." But oh I 
 what a glorious resurrection that body w^as to have. Geor- 
 gia, and Mississippi, and Alabama, and Louisiana, and Flo- 
 rida, and Texas, speedily followed in the footsteps of South 
 Carolina. Delegates from these States assembled at Mont- 
 gomery on the 4th of February, and adopted a pro visiona 
 constitution, under which Jefferson Davis was chosen Presi- 
 
16 
 
 dent, and Alexander H. Stephens, Vice President, of the new 
 Confederacy. Davis, upon liis arrival at Montgomery, an- 
 nounced that the South was determined to maintain her 
 position, and " to make all who oppose her smell Southern 
 powder and feel Southern steel." And Stephens, in a speech 
 at Savannah, said that the new government which they had 
 framed was based upon slavery, and, he truly added that it 
 was the first government in the history of the world that 
 was ever built upon such a foundation. " This stone," said 
 he, "which was rejected by the first builders, is become the 
 chief stone of the corner in our new edifice." 
 
 While these events were transpiring at the South, Mr. 
 Lincoln was preparing to leave his home at Springfield, to 
 enter upon the duties of his ofiice. He took his departure 
 on the 11th of February. In bidding adieu to his friends 
 and neighbors, there was a sadness and solemnity in his tone 
 which seemed like a presentiment that he might see their 
 faces no more. ''A duty," he said, ^'devolves upon me? 
 which is perhaps greater than that which has devolved upon 
 any other man since the days of Washington. He never 
 would have succeeded, except for the aid of Divine Provi- 
 dence, upon w^hioh he at all times relied ; I feel that I can- 
 not succeed without the same Divine aid which sustained 
 him, and on the same Almighty Being I place my reliance 
 for support, and I hope you, my friends, will all pray that I 
 may receive that Divine assistance, without which I cannot 
 succeed, but with which success is certain." All along the 
 route, on his journey to Washington, the people assembled 
 in vast multitudes, and without respect to party, greeting 
 him with hearty cheers and good wishes. In the speeches 
 he was called upon to make, he studiously abstained from 
 committing himself as to his future course. His tone, how- 
 ever, was hopefid. "Let us believe," he says, " as some poet 
 has expressed it, that behind the cloud the sun is still shin- 
 ing." But he had no plan for saving the Union. His trust 
 
17 
 
 was in God and the people. "The people," he said at 
 Indianapolis, "when they rise in mass, in behalf of the Union, 
 and the liberties of their country, truly may it be said, 'the 
 gates of hell cannot prevail against them.'" On his entrance 
 into New Jersey, he was received by the Hon. William L. 
 Dayton, on behalf of the State, in a most impressive speech. 
 Mr. Lincoln, in reply, paid a most graceful compliment to 
 this distinguished son of New Jersey — whose name I cannot 
 mention without emotion, and in whose lamented and 
 imtimely death, our country has lost one of its very greatest 
 law^'ers, statesmen and diplomatists. " You have done me," 
 said Mr. Lincoln to the assembled multitude, " the very high 
 honor, to present your reception courtesies to me through 
 your great man — a man, with whom it is an honor to be 
 associated any where, and in owning whom no State can 
 be poor." 
 
 The Legislature were in session when he reached this 
 city, and he was welcomed by the President of the Senate 
 and the Speaker of the House of Assembly. Some of you, 
 no doubt, were present, and will never forget the scene 
 which took place in the Assembly Chamber upon that oc- 
 casion. In the course of his remarks, Mr. Lincoln said, " I 
 shall do all that may be in my power to promote a peaceful 
 settlement of all our difficulties. The man does not live 
 who is more devoted to peace than I am, nor who would do 
 more to preserve it. " But," he added with much emphasis, 
 " it may be necessary to put the foot down firmly." Here 
 the audience broke out into the most tremendous cheers ; 
 and Mr. Lincoln, catching the enthusiasm, said, " And if 1 
 do my duty, and do right, you will sustain me, will you 
 not?" " Yes, yes, we will, we will," were shouted by every 
 voice. And New Jersey did sustain him, by the alacritv 
 with which she shared the burthens of the war, and by the 
 gallantry of her soldiers in the field. 
 
 In Philadelphia, Mr. Lincoln visited the venerable hall 
 1 
 
18 
 
 where the Declaration of Independence was adopted. In 
 reply to an address there delivered to him, he spoke of the 
 toils and sufferings which were endured by those who 
 achieved our independence, and said he had often asked 
 .himself what great principle or idea it was that sustained 
 .them. " It was not," he said, " the mere matter of the sep- 
 aration of the Colonies from the motherland, but that senti- 
 ment in the Declaration of Independence which gave 
 liberty, not alone to the people of this country, but I hope 
 to the world for all future time. This is the sentiment em- 
 braced in the Declaration of Independence. Now, my 
 ifriends, can this country be saved upon that basis? If it can, 
 I will consider myself one of the happiest men in the world 
 if I can help lo save it. But if this country cannot be saved 
 without giving up that principle, I was about to say, I would 
 rather be assassinated on this spot than surrender it." Noble 
 man! He was assassinated, although not on that spot, just 
 because he would not surrender that very principle. He 
 concluded this remarkable speech in these words; "I have 
 said nothing but what 1 am willing to live by, and, if it be the 
 pleasure of Almighty God, die by." 
 
 He reached Washington on the 23d day of February. 
 All was confusion and dismay. Seven States had passed 
 •ordinances of secession, and organized a hostile confederacy. 
 Their Senators and Representatives had resigned their seats 
 in Congress, Hinging defiance at the Government, and instead 
 of being arrested on the spot as traitors, were allowed to 
 march out of the Capitol with the triumphial air of con- 
 querors. The forts, the arsenals, the dock yards and the 
 custom houses, within the limits of the seceding States, had 
 been seized by the rebel authorities. Officers of the army 
 and navy from the South, educated at the expense of the 
 Government, had thrown up their commissions and entered 
 the rebel service. During ail this time. President Buchanan 
 had looked on with folded arms, declaring that while a State 
 
19 
 
 had no right to secede. Government had no right to prevent 
 secession. He had allowed the public revenue to accumu- 
 late in the rebel States. He had allowed cannon and muskets, 
 in immense quantities, to find their way to the South. He 
 had allowed the army to be seat to the frontiers of Texas, 
 and the navy to be scattered in distant seas. Such was the 
 state of affairs when Mr. Lincoln entered upon the duties of 
 his office. 
 
 His inaugural address was calm and conciliatory. He 
 declared it to be his purpose to execute the laws in all the 
 States; "but," he added, "In doing this there need be no 
 bloodshed or violence ; and there shall be none, unless it is 
 forced upon the national authority." "In your hands," he 
 concluded, " my dissatisfied fellow countrymen, and not in 
 mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The Government 
 will not assail you. You can have no conflict without being 
 yourselves the aggressors. You have no oath registered in 
 heaven to destroy the Government, while I .shall have the 
 most solemn one to preserve, protect and defend it. I am 
 loth to close. We are not enemies but friends. We must 
 not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must 
 not break our bonds of affection. The mystic cord of mem- 
 ory, stretching from every battle-field and patriot grave to 
 every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, 
 will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, 
 as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature." 
 
 But all such appeals were thrown away, upon those to 
 whom they were addressed. They excited only their de- 
 rision and contempt. They were interpreted, as all appeals 
 to Southern magnaminity ever were, as signs of weakness. 
 The only response which they made, was the bombardment 
 o^ Sumter. This was the first act in the bloody drama that 
 now opened. It was a most wanton and unprovoked attack. 
 The feeble and exhausted garrison, under the gallant Ander- 
 son, could have held out but a few days longer, and this the 
 
20 
 
 rebels knew full well. But it was uecessnry that blood 
 should be shed. It was necessary, in order to fire the 
 heart of the South. It did lire the heart of the South. 
 When the news reached Montgomery, the rebel capitol was 
 in a blaze of enthusiasm ; and the rebel secretary of war 
 littered the prediction, that before the first of May, the flag 
 that then flaunted the breeze, would float over the dome of 
 the capitol at Washington, and ere long over Faneuil Hall 
 itself When the news reached Richmond, Viro-inia hesi- 
 tated no longer, but passed at once the ordinance of seces- 
 sion. But this was not the only effect of the bombardment 
 of Fort Sumter. It fired the heart of the North no less. 
 It kindled a flame of patriotism, which all the blood that 
 was shed during the terrible contest was not able to extin- 
 guish ; and which continued to burn with increasing bright- 
 ness, until the old flag of the Union once more waved in 
 triumph from the battlements of Sumter. 
 
 Whatever hopes the President.might have had of a peace- 
 ful solution of our troubles were now dissipated. It became 
 manifest to him, as to every one else, that the Union to be 
 preserved, must be fought lor. The sword was now drawn, 
 and the scabbard thrown away. He acted with promptness 
 and vigor, and shrunk from no responsibility which the ex- 
 igency demanded. The day after the surrender of Sumter, 
 he issued his Proclamation, calling out 75,000 men, and con- 
 vening Congress in extra session. It is impossible to describe 
 the effect produced by this Proclamation. Party lines were 
 everywhere obliterated, and every voice was raised in favor 
 of the government. The North, and the West, responded 
 promptly to the call for troops, and men and money were 
 offered in profusion. Massachusetts, as might have been 
 expected, was the first in the field. The cradle of the Revo- 
 lution, she rallied round Lincoln as she had rallied round 
 Washington. The day after the issue of the proclamation, her 
 Sixth regiment, completely equipped, left Boston for the 
 
21 
 
 N.itional Capitol. On its way through Baltimore it was at- 
 tacked by a inob, carrying a secession flag, and several of its 
 members were killed or wounded. But this only intlamed 
 to a higher pitch the enthusiasm which pervaded the coua- 
 try. Baltimore was at that time a rebel stronghold ; but she 
 soon came to be one of the most loyal cities in the Union, 
 thanks to the eloquence and patriotism of the gallant Henry 
 Winter Davis, whose recent death a nation deplores. 
 
 Congress assembled on the 4th of July. The President, 
 in his message, alluded to the affair of Sumter, to the extra- 
 ordinary forbearance of the govejnment, and the necessity 
 which had at last been imposed upon it, of repelling force by 
 force. He discussed the pretended right of secession, in all 
 its aspects, with signal ability. He said the contest in which, 
 we were engaged was the '• people's contest," and he was 
 most happy to believe that the '-'plain people" understood 
 and appreciated this ; that while large numbers of " oflficerji 
 in the army and navy had* resigned and proved false to the 
 hand which had pampereJ them, not one common soldier or 
 common sailor was known to have deserted his ilag." That 
 the contest might be rendered short and decisive, he asked 
 Congress to place at his disposal four hundred thousand men, 
 and four hundred millions of dollars. Congress gave him 
 half a million of men, and five hundred millions of money. 
 Oh ! could the nature and extent of the struggle then have 
 been foreseen, its frightful cost of treasure and of blood, the 
 heart of the nation would have melted away. But fortu- 
 nately these things were hidden from our eyes. God had a 
 great work to accomplish, and he inspired both President 
 and people with confidence and hope, a confidence that never 
 faltered, a hope that never failed. The nation was to be 
 redeemed from slavery, and there could be no redemption 
 but by blood. 
 
 Upon the hi>torv of this great struggle I shall not enter. 
 It is not necessary that I should do so. You know it all. 
 
22 
 
 Fort Donaldson and Vicksburg, Nashville and Atlanta, Mis- 
 sianary Kidge and Lookout Mountain, Antietam and Gettys- 
 burg, are still freshly remembered, and the names of Grant 
 and Sherman, of Sheridan and Thomas, of Foot and Far- 
 ragut, are familiar to you as household words. 
 
 Early in the contest, the question of slavery was found to 
 be one of extreme delicacy and difficulty. Congress had at 
 an early day, and with great unanimity, resolved, that the 
 war was waged, not for the purpose of conquest or subjuga- 
 tion, or to interfere with the rights or the institutions of any 
 of the States, but simply for the purpose of preserving the 
 Union and maintaining the supremacy of the Constitution, 
 and that when these objects were accomplished it ought to 
 cease. It soon began to be felt, however, that as slavery was 
 the principal cause of the rebellion, so it had come to be the 
 chief element of its strength. While the slaves were left at 
 home to cultivate the soil, the whole white population of the 
 South capable of bearing arms were summoned to the field. 
 The fiict, too, that the Government had disclaimed all inter- 
 ference with slavery, was weakening our cause in the estima- 
 tion of foreign powers, and seemed to justif}^ the assertion of 
 Earl Russell, in the British House of Lords, that the contest 
 was simply one for independence by the South, and dominion 
 by the North. The President was therefore called npon, by 
 a large and constantly increasing party in the countr}^, to take 
 more decided ground upon the subject of slavery, with a view 
 to the more speedy and effectual crushing of the rebellion. 
 But he long resisted the pressure. He was anxious to pro- 
 pitiate, the border States and prevent them from joining the 
 Confederacy, and he Avished to silence the clamor of those, 
 who made it a pretext for opposing the war, that the object 
 of the party in power was, not the preservation of the Union, 
 but the destruction of slavery. "My paramount object," he 
 says, in his letter to Horace Greeley, of the 22d of August,, 
 1862, "is to save the Union, and not either to save or to 
 
23 
 
 destroy slavery. K I could save the Union without freeing- 
 any slave, I would do it— if I could save it hy freeing all the' 
 slaves I would do it— and if I could save it by freeing some 
 and leaving others slaves, I would do that also." 
 
 But he soon became satisfied that the time had arrived, 
 when the policy which he had heretofore pursued, could no 
 lono-er with safety be adhered to. The summer of 1862, 
 Avas^'the gloomiest period of the war. General McClellan, at 
 the head of a magnificent army of 160,000 men, alter seven 
 days severe fi-hting, had retreated from the Peninsula, and 
 the capture of Richmond, and the termination of the war, 
 seemed more remote than ever. It was absolutely necessary 
 that something should be done, to rouse the droopmg spirits 
 of the country. The President therefore, without consulta- 
 tion with any one, and without the knowledge of his cabinet, 
 resolved upon the adoption of a measure, which he had been 
 Ion- revolving in his own mind. He prepared the original 
 draft of a Proclamamion of Emancipation. It was his own 
 act He took the whole responsibility of it upon hmiself. 
 He called a meeting of the Cabinet, not to consult with them 
 as to the propriety of the measure, for this he had resolved 
 upon but to let them know that he had concluded to take 
 this step, and to submit to them the paper he had drawn up. 
 The only doubt was, as to the expediency of issuing it at 
 that particvdar juncture. It was suggested, that such was 
 the depression of the public mind under our repeated re- 
 verses, that it might be looked upon as the last desperate 
 expedient of a failing cause, and thus add to the despondency 
 which was beginning to prevail. This objection struck the 
 President as a forcible one, and he resolved to wnit, until 
 some favorable turn in our aflaus took place. It was also 
 objected, that it might have an untavorable effect upon the 
 elections which were approaching. But this ma.le no im- 
 pression upon the mind of the President. He was iar above 
 all such cDusiderations. Then came the battle ot Antietam. 
 
24 
 
 It kindled new hope and joy in the nation ; and the Presi- 
 dent announced to his cabinet, that the Proclamation of 
 Emancipation could be delayed no longer. The people, he 
 said, were prepared for it — public sentiment would sustain 
 it — " and," he added, in a subdued tone of voice, " he had 
 promised his God that he would do it." Upon being after- 
 wards asked by one of his cabinet, whether he had been cor- 
 rectly understood in his last remark, he said, yes, he had 
 made a solemn vow before God, that if General Lee w^ere 
 driven back from Pennsylvania, he would crown the result 
 by the declaration of freedom to the slaves. The Proclama- 
 tion was issued. It announced, that on the first day of Janu- 
 ary 1863, all persons held as slaves, in any state then in re- 
 bellion against the United States, should be then, thencefor- 
 ward, and forever free. It was, as he afterwards declared, 
 the central act of his administration, and the great event of 
 the nineteenth century. Its effect upon the fall elections 
 was perhaps disastrous. They went generally against the 
 administration. But this disturbed not the President in the 
 least. It struck a blow, under which, the rebellion reeled, 
 and staggered, and at last fell. It is now known, that it was 
 this Proclamation, and this alone, that averted the danger of 
 Foreign Intervention. Had it been delayed, even a few 
 months longer, England and France would both have ac- 
 knowledged the Independence of the Confederate States. 
 
 In the spring of 1864, began those great movements, that 
 were destined to crush the rebellion and restore the bles- 
 sings of peace to the land. Grant was appointed Lieutenant 
 General, and invested with the supreme command. On the 
 second of May, the forward movement of the grand army of 
 the Potomac began. The Rapidan was crossed, and thence for- 
 ward — there were to be no more backward steps. The war 
 was to be fought out on that line. At the same time, Gen. 
 Sherman, at the head of the army of the West, turned his 
 face towards Atlanta, and after the capture of that rebel 
 
25 i, 
 
 stronghold, swept through Georgia and the CaroUnas, driv- 
 ing befoi-e him the combined armies of the rebels, while 
 Grant held Gen. Lee in a death grasp. 
 
 Meanwhile, another Presidential election was approaching. 
 The Republican Convention met at Baltimore on the 8th of 
 June. Mr. Lincoln was nominated by acclamation for Presi- 
 dent ; and for Vice President, the choice fell on Andrew John- 
 son, of Tennessee, the only representative from the South 
 who, on the floor of the Senate, in 1861, had denounced se- 
 cession, and dared to call it treason. 
 
 General McClellan was the opposing candidate for the 
 Presidency. The Convention that nominated him assembled 
 at Chicago, on the 29th of August. The platform that was 
 adopted, was based upon the idea that the war had proved a 
 failure, and declared, that justice, humanity, liberty, and the 
 public welfare demanded, that immediate efforts should be 
 made for a cessation of hostilities. But the Convention had 
 scarcely adjourned, before news came of the fuU^f Atlanta, 
 and that Sherman had begun that glorious march, which was 
 to have its consummation in the surrender of the last rebel 
 army. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was re-elected by a majority of over four hun- 
 dred thousand votes, a larger majority than any other Presi- 
 dent had ever received. Upon being congratulated on the 
 result, he declared, that while he thanked God for this ap- 
 proval of the people, his gratitude was free from any taint 
 of personal malice — that he impugned the motives of no 
 man opposed to him — that it was no pleasure to him to tri- 
 umph over any one — that he had never willingly planted a 
 thorn in any man's bosom, and that it added nothing to his 
 satisfaction that any other man might be disappointed by the 
 result. And in his second inaugural address, occurs this 
 memorable passage : '• 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 
 
% 26 
 
 piled by the bondsman's two hundred and fifty years of un- 
 requited 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, that the judgments of the Lord are true and right- 
 eous altogether. With malice towards none, with charity for 
 all, with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the 
 right, let us 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 orphans, to do all which may achieve 
 and cherish a just and a lasting peace among ourselves, and 
 with all nations." 
 
 Richmond was evacuated on the 2d of April. On the 3d, 
 the President, who had been with the army for several days, 
 made his entrance into the rebel capital. His coming was 
 unannounced. He had not even a military guard. Instead 
 of being mounted on a triumphal car, with his train swelled 
 by captives' taken in war, after the manner of a Eoman con- 
 queror, he came on foot, and unattended, save by those he 
 had made free. As he Avalked alons; the streets, leadins; his 
 little son by the hand, the poor blacks flocked around him, 
 •wild with joy, clapping their hands, throwing up their hats, 
 waving their handkerchiefs, shouting and dancing with de- 
 light. "God bless you President Linkum," "May de good 
 Lord bless you President Linkum," "Ilhankyou, dear Jesus, 
 that I behold President Linkum," were heard on every side. 
 They had been looking for him. He was their Moses, nay, 
 their second Messiah. Tliey had w^•^tched for his coming 
 with longing eyes. They had said he would come. They 
 had prayed that he would come. And he had come at last, 
 and with their own eyes they were permitted to look upon 
 the face of their deliverer. 
 
 Lee surrendered on Sunday, the 9th of April. The war 
 was now virtually at an end, and peace once more with 
 healino; on her wino-swas to visit our torn and bleeding; land. 
 
27 
 
 On Tuesday evening, Washington was in a state of joyous 
 excitement. Flags were waving, and fires blazing on every 
 side. The Executive Mansion was illuminated in honor of 
 the occasion, and to an immense crowd there assembled, the 
 President dehvered his last public address. In view of the 
 discussions now taking place in Congress, there is one passage 
 in this address, full of interest, and fraught with instruction. 
 He alluded to a letter in which regret was expressed, that 
 he had not made up his mind definitely upon the question 
 whether the seceded States were in the Union or out of it. 
 He said it was not a practical question — it was " a merely 
 pernicious abstraction," and that the discussion of it " could 
 have no other effect than the mischievous one of dividing 
 our friends." '•' We all agree," he says, " that the seceded 
 States, so called, are out of their proper practical relation 
 with the Union, and that the sole object of the Government, 
 civil and military, in regard to those States, is to again get 
 them into their proper practical relation." This is worth 
 whole volumes of eloquent and abstract discussions. Friday, 
 the 14th of April, was the anniversary of the surrender of 
 Fort Sumter, and the Government had resolved, that on that 
 day the American flag should be raised upon the fort, with 
 ceremonies befitting the occasion. Mr. Lincolri'3 heart was 
 overflowing with the patriotic joy which such a circumstai.ee 
 was calculated to inspire. On the morning of that dny, a 
 Cabinet meeting was held, enlivened by the presence of Gen. 
 Grant. Never before had the President been so cheerful 
 and hopeful. After the meeting was over, he talked to his 
 Avife, with all the warmth of his loving nature, of the four 
 years of darkness and storm through which he had passed, 
 and of the bright sun and clear sky which now shone upon 
 him. He then made arrangements for attending the theatre 
 in the evenino;. He told Mr. Colfnx, that he would be glad 
 to stay at home, but the people had expected both General 
 Grant and himself, and as General Grant had been obliged to 
 leave town, he did not like to disappoint them altogether. 
 
28 
 
 A little after eight lie wont" to the theatre, accompanied by 
 his wife and some friends. At a quarter past ten, while all 
 were intent on the proceedings upon the stage, an assassin, 
 with a pistol in one hand and a dagger in the other, entered 
 the box in which the President was sitting, and holding the 
 pistol just over the back of his chair, shot him through the 
 head. He then rushed to the front of the box and leaped 
 upon the stage below, and shouted as he went, A^irginia's 
 ancient motto, ^' sic semper tyrannisy His spur was caught 
 in the flag which draped the front of the box, and he fell ; 
 but he rose at once, faced the audience, brandished his dag- 
 ger in the air, cried out " the South is avenged," and then 
 rushed across the stage to a door in the rear and made his 
 escape. But his leg was fractured by the fall, and thus his 
 detection was owing to the fact that his feet had been caught 
 in the folds of the flag. That flag has ever been a stumbling 
 block in the traitor's path. 
 
 But the assassin had done his murderous work. Mr. Lin- 
 coln lingered until a little past seven on the following morn- 
 ing, when his gentle spirit took its flight. He died without 
 a pang. He had been unconscious from the first. Language 
 would fail me, were I to attempt to describe the shock pro- 
 duced by the tragic event, coupled as it was, with a murder- 
 ous attack upon the Secretary of State, which it was thought 
 would prove fatal. It was so unlooked for, so sudden, so 
 xiwful. It was. as if some Q-reat convulsion of nature had 
 
 o 
 
 taken place — as if some star had shot madly from its sphere 
 — some comet had swept across the path of our globe — some 
 earthquake had opened to swallow us up — as if the angel of 
 death, in visible form, had been seen flying over the land. 
 Never before, was a whole nation, in such a moment, cast 
 down, from the highest pinnacle of joy, to the lowest depth 
 of grief One long, loud, universal wail of woe, was heard 
 throughout the land, and echoed from beyond the sea. And 
 then, that funeral procession, stretching for more than fifteen 
 
29 
 
 hundred miles, and \yitnessed b}' more than five millions of 
 luinian beings, never before had the world l)eheld so solemn 
 a spectacle. Other nations have mourned the death of their 
 sovereigns or their benefactors, with all the outward habili- 
 ments of sorrow, but never before was grief so sincere, so 
 deep, so pervading. It seemed as if every man had lost a 
 father or a friend — as if every household had been robbed 
 of some loved inmate, and every hearth-stone been made 
 desolate. And as for that race whom he had made free, who 
 can tell the anguish that wrung their hearts, when the sad 
 news came to them in their lowly cabins, that their lather, 
 their deliverer, their saviour was no more. 
 
 But there was one consolation left. His work was done. 
 His task was finished. He had lived to see the last strong- 
 hold of rebellion surrendered, its last battle fought. He had 
 lived to see slavery perish, and the Union saved. It was 
 right that he should now go to his reward ; and that after so 
 many toils, and grief*^, and burdens, and anxieties, he should 
 have a heavenly rest. He seemed to have had a presenti- 
 ment that he would not outlive the reljellion. "When it is 
 over," he said more than once, " My work is done. I never 
 shall live out the four years of my term." And as early as 
 1859, he seemed to have felt that his struggle with slavery 
 was a death struggle and might cost him his life. ''Broken 
 by it," said he, "I too may be ; bow to it, 1 never will. The 
 probability that we may fail in the struggle ought not to 
 deter us from the support of a cause which I deem to be 
 just; it shall not deter me. \\' ever I feel the soul within 
 me elevate and expand to those dimensions, not wholly un- 
 Avorthy of its Almighty architect, it is when 1 contemplate 
 the cause of my country, deserted by all the world besides, 
 and I standing up boldly and alone, and hurling defiance at 
 her victorious oppressors. Here, without contemplating con- 
 sequences, before High Heaven and in the face of the world, 
 I swear eternal fidelity to the just cause, as 1 deem it, of the 
 land of my life, my liberty and my love." 
 
30 
 
 And now, having reviewed the principal events of the life 
 of our late President, let us endeavor to make some estimate 
 of his character, intellectually and morally. Abraham Lin- 
 coln was undoubtedly an extraordinary man. Called to pre- 
 side over the destinies of a great nation, at a most critical 
 and perilous period, he seemed at firt^t view, to be destitute 
 of almost every quality requisite for the crisis. He was not 
 a soldier, and had no knowledge of military affairs. He had 
 no experience as a statesman or diplomatist. In early life he 
 had been a rail-splitter, a flat-boatman, and a back-woods- 
 man. And his maturer years had been spent in the seclu- 
 sion of a country village. He had none of that boldness 
 and energy of character, which are thought to fit men for 
 times of civil convulsion. He was not what the world would 
 have called a scholar, or a gentlemen. He had had little or 
 no education, and his manners were singularly ungraceful. 
 His friends trembled, lest he might prove himself unequal to 
 the occasion ; while to his enemies, he was only an object of 
 derision. And yet, his administration was the most success- 
 ful and the most glorious that this country has ever seen; 
 and he will go down to posterity as the greatest of our 
 Presidents. 
 
 "No hero, this, of Roman mould; 
 Nor like onr statelj^ sires of old ; 
 
 Perhaps he was not Great, 
 
 But he preserved the State ; 
 Ay ! And his genius put to scorn, 
 The proudest in the purple boin ; 
 
 Whose wisdom never grew, 
 
 To what, untaught, he knew." 
 
 No doubt he was ably seconded in the cabinet and in the 
 field. But then he chose his counsellors and his command- 
 ers; and here he displayed the greatest judgment and saga- 
 city. Never before were the three great department, of the 
 State, the War, and the Treasur}^, so ably filled. Mr. Seward, 
 by the admirable skill with which he conducted our foreign 
 negotiations, never betraying the honor or the dignity of the 
 
31 
 
 nation, and yet ever mindful of the motto of his beloved chief, 
 "one w<ar at a time," has laid the country under obligations 
 to him which can never be repaid. Mr. Stanton is now uni- 
 versally acknowledged to have been the greatest war minis- 
 ter that this, or indeed any country ever had ; while the mag- 
 nitude and extent of his herculean labors are just beginning 
 to be understood and appreciated. And Mr. Chase, while he 
 sustained the credit of the Government under the frightful 
 expenditures of the war, and enabled it to borrow every dol- 
 lar that it needed without asking aid from abroad, had the 
 genius to conceive, and the boldness to execute, a grand sys- 
 tem of National Banks, which put it in the power of Congress 
 to perform, for the first time since the adoption of the Con- 
 stitution, what Mr. Webster always insisted was one of their 
 most important functions — that of providing for the people 
 of the United States a sound and uniform currency. 
 
 All honor, then, to these men and their colleagues in office, 
 ■who so nobl}' sustained the Government! But who enabled 
 them to retain their seats in the Cabinet? Who does not re- 
 member the incessant clamor with which both friends and 
 foes assailed almost every head of department, and the im- 
 portunity with which the President was called upon to ap- 
 point others in their stead? But invoking the aid of one of 
 his hon^ely maxims, he firmly resisted all such attempts. He 
 knew their worth, their capacity, their fidelity ; he had con- 
 fidence in them, and every one now sees he was right. 
 
 Nor let it be said, that it was the superior numbers and 
 resources of the North alone, that enabled the President to 
 put down the rebellion. On the one side, were eight millions 
 of people, united as one man for all practical purposes, scat- 
 tered over thousands of miles of contiguous territory, and 
 holding in their hands the mouths of that great river wdiich 
 waters the vast basin of the Mississippi. They were not a 
 race accustomed to subjection, whose spirit had been broken, 
 and whose strength had been subdued by years of oppression. 
 
32 
 
 On the contrary, they were a proud and high sph'ited race ; 
 quite equal in point of courage, and superior in niilitary 
 tastes and habits to those against whom they were arrayed. 
 They were better prepared, too, for tlie contest. Their armies 
 were composed of the tlower of Southern chivalry, under 
 skilful and accomplished officers : and they were fighting on 
 their own soil. Such a people would seem to have been in- 
 vincible by any force that could be brought against them ;, 
 and the idea that there was a possibility of their being con- 
 quered never once entered into their minds. On the other 
 hand, the North, while having a larger population, was very 
 far from being united. From the first, there was a large and 
 powerful party opposed to the President, opposed to the 
 Government ; some of whom were in open sympathy with 
 the South — denouncing the war, and counselling submission 
 to all the demands of the rebels; and others, who, while pro- 
 fessing to support the Government, were doing evei-ything 
 in their power to thwart its measures, and emlmrrnss its- 
 operations. I say not this to impugn the motives of any 
 man or any party, much less to rc-ivindle passions^ ivhich I 
 trust are buried in the grave of our martyred President, but 
 to st.ite truly the facts of history. In such a contest, too, it 
 is generally the first blow that tells ; and the rebels won the 
 first great victory. And for long, our armies, thougli brave, 
 were undisciplined, and were led by Cenerals, half-heurted 
 and inefficient. 
 
 That such a rebellion should, under such circumstance,*^ 
 have been put down, is truly wonderful. It could not have 
 been put down by any Government in Europe. It conld not 
 have been put down by any Government in ih'i worlds 
 except such a Government as ours; and I verily believe it 
 never could have been put down by our Government, if it 
 had not had at its head such a man as Abraham Lincoln- 
 Whatever may have been our first impressions, we now see 
 that the qualities which he possessed were the very qixslitles- 
 
33 
 
 needed for the occuHion. ^y!lat were thought to be his 
 weaknesses were the very elements of his strength. Had 
 lie been an ambitions man — an energetic man — a man of 
 showy and brilliant parts — the people never would have 
 trusted him with those large and arbitraiy powers, the exer- 
 cise of which were absolutely necessary in oi'der to save the 
 State. But that Abraham Lincoln could ever be guilt}^ of 
 abusing those powers, or of using them for any selfisli ends 
 or purposes, was a thought which never once entered into 
 their imagination. And therefore, when popular orators and 
 newspaper presses inveighed against arbitrary arrests, and 
 the suspension of the habeas corpus, they made not the 
 slightest impression upon the public mind. The people knew 
 in whom they trusted ; and that Abraham Lincoln would 
 ever deprive a, man of his liberty unless the public good re- 
 quired it — that he would ever plant a thorn unnecessarily in 
 any man's breast, the'y never would believe. This was the 
 great secret of his strength. He was one of the people. He 
 was in sympathy with them. He laid his large heart alongside 
 that of the people, nud evevy pulsation of the one found a 
 rcsp;)usive thrill iu the ot'her. 
 
 Nor was it to the j)eople of this country alone that li was 
 so endeared. While the ruliniJ' classes in Emxland affeciied to 
 despise him, and could see nothing to love or to admire in 
 him, the hearts of the common people turned instinctively^ 
 towards him. Not only those by whom our language is 
 spoken, but the people of France, of Italy and of Germany, 
 seemed to be drawn to Abraham Lincoln by some "m^^stic 
 chord " of sympathy. Everywhere throughout Europe, there 
 was a spell and a fascination in his name. The interesting 
 fact has just been announced in a French provincial newspa- 
 per, that the workingmen's subscription of one sou each to 
 strike a medal commemorative of their abhorrence of the 
 murder of Mr. Lincoln, has reached the sum of five thousand 
 francs, and that the medal will be shortlv transmitted to the 
 
 9 
 
34 
 
 Ainerieaii Goveniinout. And the weavers of Lyons have 
 lately couipleted a luag-nificent flag, finished in the very 
 highest style of their ait, designed as a memorial of Presi- 
 dent Lincoln. The inscription is worked in gold thread, and 
 it is embroidered with thirt^'-five silver stars, emblematical 
 of the thirty-five States of the Union. It is to be sent np for 
 exhibition in Paris, and then to be forwarded to the LTnited 
 States. There have been some touching exhibitions in Ital}', 
 too, of the love and veneration everywhere felt for him. 
 
 Abraham Lincoln was a great man. Not great in the sense 
 in which that term is commonly used, but in a far higher and 
 nobler sense. His greatness was not of the antique mould. 
 It was not of the Grecian or the Eoman type. Nor was it 
 of the European order of greatness. It was not the great- 
 ness of a Pitt, or a Wellington, or a Napoleon. It was some- 
 thing eminently American — peculiarly indigenous — the le- 
 gitimate growth of our own christian civilization, our own 
 free institutions. He had none of the attributes which are 
 usually ascribed to popular heroes, whether of history or 
 romance. His qualities were rather christian graces and 
 virtues. VThey were the very qualities upon which 
 benedictions are pronounced in the sermon on the Mount. 
 He was meek — he was merciful — he was pure in heart — ho 
 was a peace maker — he loved his enemies — he blessed them 
 that cursed hini' — he did good to them who hated him — he 
 prayed for them who despitefully used him and persecuted 
 him. And it is to the honor of our country, and the glory 
 of our institutions, that such qualities fitted him in an emi- 
 nent degree, to be the ruler of a free people. He was such 
 a hero as Moses was ; and like him, he led his people through 
 the red sea and the wilderness. He brought them within 
 sight of the promised land, and then on Pisgah's top he died. 
 Li one respect, he was greater than Moses ; for he brought 
 out of the house of bondage, not his own brethren and kins- 
 folk, but those of another family, and another race. 
 
35 
 
 That Mr. Lincoln di I not at iiiot fully coniprehen'.] the 
 n.iture of the contest in which we were engnged, is admitted. 
 There were few of our public men who did. In the speeche.-^ 
 which he made on his way to Washington, lie frequently 
 niade use of the expression, '•' Nobody hurt as yet." In his 
 first inaugural, ho seemed to be under the impression, that 
 if the South could only be puisuaded that there was no in- 
 tention on his part to interrerc Avitli slavery in the States, 
 they would gladly return to their allegiance. He was slow 
 to believe, that the destruction of slavery was necessary to 
 the preservation ol the Union. Nor did he for some time 
 fully realize, th;it tliare was involved in the contest, some- 
 thing more than slavery, something more even than the 
 Union itself; that the cause in which we were engaged, was 
 the cause of ti'uth, and justice, and law, and order, and civili- 
 //ition, and Christianity, throughout the world, in a word the 
 cause of free institutions, here and everywhere, now and in 
 all time to come. But when this was at last fully revealed 
 to him, it is interesting to see how lie rose and expanded 
 under its influence. It swelled his soul, and dilated all his 
 faculties. From this time, the war became to him a holy 
 war ; and he felt more and more assured, that we had God 
 on our side, and therefore could not fail. So fully had thii 
 idea taken possession of his mind, that had he been a man 
 of more ardent temperament, he might have become an 
 enthusiast, and almost fancied himself inspired. But in truth, 
 no one was ever less of .an enthusiast than he w\as. 
 
 His intellectual qualities were of a veiy high order. There 
 may be those who would object to so unqualified a state- 
 ment. And 3^et I believe it to be correct. He owed nothing 
 to education. He was emphatically a self-made man. Said 
 one who knew him well, '-he read less, and thought more, 
 than any man of his standing in America, if not in the world." 
 But this only shews the strength of his native powers, lie 
 liad, as we have seen, an eminently logical mind. Xo man 
 
36 
 
 ^vas ever more capuble of pursuing a close and consecutive 
 train of reasoning. He was a remorseless analyser of flicts 
 and principles. He delighted to reduce them to their 
 simplest elements, and to bring them down to the level of 
 the humblest capacity. Even when a boy, he used to be 
 irritated when anybody talked to him in a way that he could 
 not understand. " I don't think," he said, '' I ever got iri-i- 
 tated at anything else in my life; but that always disturbed 
 my temper, and has ever since." This simplifying of thought 
 was a pei-fect passion with him. '-I was never eas}'," he 
 said, '- until I had a thought bounded on the North, and 
 bounded on the South, and bounded on the East, and bound- 
 ed on the West." 
 
 He possessed originality and power of thought in an emi- 
 nent degree. He had a retentive memory, and he had stored 
 his mind with tlie most beautiful passages from his favor- 
 ite books, the Bible and Sliakspeare. He certainly did 
 not cultivate the graces of style, and he was usually inatten- 
 tive to the harmony of his pei'iods. And 3^et there are to be 
 found, scattered through his writings and speeches, passages 
 of exquisite beauty — literary gems — which shine and sparkle 
 the more highly by reason of the plain settings in which they 
 are encased. Many of these I have already given, and others 
 will readily occur to those who are familiar with liis produc- 
 tions. Thus, in his Springfield letter, wi-itten in 1863, he 
 says, "The signs look bettei-. The Father of Waters again 
 goes unvexed to the sea. Peace does not appear so distant 
 as it did. I hope it will come soon, and come to stay; and so 
 come as to be worth the keeping in all future time. It will 
 then have been proved that, among freemen, there can be no 
 successful appeal from the ballot lo the bullet. And there 
 will be some black men who can remember that, with silent 
 tongue, and clenched teeth, and steady eye, and well poised 
 bayonet, they have helped mankind on to this great consum- 
 mation, while, I fear, there will be some white ones unable 
 
to forget' that, with malignant heart and evil speech, they 
 have striven to hinder it." 
 
 So too, was anything ever more beautiful, more graceful, 
 more felicitous, than his address at Gettysburg. " We have 
 come to dedicate a portion of this field as u final resting 
 place for those who here gave their lives that the nation 
 might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should 
 do so. But in a larger sense, v:e cannot dedicate, iL-e cannot 
 consecrate, wc cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, 
 living and dead, Avho struggled here have consecrated it, far 
 above our power to add or detract. The world will little 
 note nor long remember what we say here, but it will never 
 forget what thej did here. It is for us, the living, rather to 
 be dedicated here, to the unfinished work which they who 
 fought here have thus far so nobly advanced." There was 
 nothing finer in Mr. Everett's address upon that occasion. 
 
 It was a peculiarity of Mr. Lincoln's mind, that he never 
 could speak well unless he had something to say. To some 
 men this does not seem to make much difference. Hence, 
 he was seldom happy in his iinprompta addresses, in his 
 complimentary speeches, in returning thanks, or in his re- 
 marks on some sudden occasion. He always felt and often 
 alluded to his embarrassment at such times. He wanted a 
 theme, a subject — some proposition to discuss — some data 
 upon wliicli to reason — some premises from which a conclu- 
 sion \\as to be drawn. Then he was always himself This 
 was probably owing to the fact, tliat he was not a man of 
 quick perceptions. The operations of his mind w^ere slow. 
 He Mauled time to reach his conclusions. He "bounded" 
 his thoughts — he weighed his words — he made his approaches 
 at a distance, cautiously and deliberately \ but when his con- 
 clusions were reached, he was as certain of them as he was 
 of any demonstration of Euclid. 
 
 But it was the morrJ qualities of Mr. Lincoln that were 
 the most attractive. He was pi'e-eminently a good man. 
 
38 
 
 Ati i, if lovo (.0 iloi], riii>l lovo to man, coii.stitutc tlio e.S:,'ence 
 of (Jhi'istianiU', then was lie a christian indeed. Tlio current 
 of his Imiiianily was hroad, deep, and full. Boundless as the 
 ocean, it washei] every slioro, and circled the whole earth. 
 Xo one ever felt more l^ocnly anothei's woe. lie bore the 
 burdens of others, and shared their sorrows. His joy for 
 every victory won was clouded, and his grief for every dis- 
 aster incurred was embittered by the thought, that so many 
 ))rave men had laid dov^ui their lives, and so many families 
 had been left desolate. '' I cannot bear it," he would exclaim, 
 when news wore brouglit of the dreadful loss of life in the 
 battles of the Wilderness. 
 
 And if he had love for man, he Avas no less distinguished 
 by his trust in God. No one ever cultivated habitually a 
 deeper sense of his own helplessness, and his entire depend- 
 ence upon God. This was manifest, not only in his public 
 addresses and proclamations, but it ran through the whole 
 current of his life and conversation. He was averse to forms 
 and ceremonies of every kind. He did nothing for effect. 
 He was wholly free from ostentation. He did not love to 
 pray standing in the corners of the street, that he might be 
 seen of men. He had none of that dogmatic spirit, which 
 will tolerate no differencesof opinion, in reference to matters 
 about which we see but darkly, and know onl}- in part ; but 
 of that charity, which suffereth long and is kind, which en- 
 vietli not, which vaunteth not itself, which is not easily pro- 
 voked — who among the sons of men ever had a larger 
 measure? Who can read that beautiful picture of the last 
 judgment, which, as it seems to me, teaches and touches 
 more than any other in the New Testament. '• When saw 
 we thee an hungered ami fed thee ? or thirst}-, and gave thoo 
 drink? When saw we thee a stranger and took thee in ? or 
 naked and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in 
 ])rison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer 
 and say: Inasmuch as ye liave done it unto one of the least 
 
39 
 
 of llie.3C'. my brelhren, yc have done it unto lue" — ulio. 1 
 say, can ever read that beautiful pa-^sage without thinking- 
 of Abraham Luicohi. 
 
 A Plutarch would dehght to run a parallel lA'tween Wash- 
 ington and Lincoln. There arc certainly strong points of re- 
 semblance between them. They were alike in their [)ru- 
 udence and their patience, in their strong common sense au'.l 
 their sound practical judgment. In their disinterestedness. 
 their entire unselfishness, the breadth of their jiatriotism — 
 which soared above all party views — and the depth of their 
 devotion to their country', which made them ready at any 
 time to die in her service, they were strikingl}-^ alike. Tiiey 
 both lived in revolutionary times. Both conducted their 
 country safely through a long and bloody v;ar. And. both 
 were for a second term elected President of the United Stales. 
 They were neither of them men of brilliant talents, and had 
 not a particle of what is usually called genius, and yet both 
 accomplished, what no talents, how ever brilliant.and no genius, 
 how^ever splendid would, in the absence of their other quali- 
 ties, ever have enabled them to perform. But in other re- 
 spects, there were strong points of contrast between them. 
 Washington was born to wealth, Jjincoln to poverty; Wash- 
 ington was of patrician blood, Lincoln was, in every sen-se of 
 the w'ord, a plebeian ; Washington belonged to the aristocra- 
 cy of the South, Lincoln to the democracy ; Washington was 
 a man of great elegance of manners and dignity of deport- 
 ment; his very presence inspired awe; Lincoln was singu- 
 larly ungraceful in his manners, awkward in his address, and 
 unimposing in his appearance ; he w'as utterly destitute of 
 what is usually called dignity, although no doubt he pos- 
 sessed true dignity of soul. It', in one respect, this gives 
 AVashington the advantage, yet in another, it enhances our 
 estimation of Lincoln, that he had that within him which en- 
 abled him to overcome these deficiencies. In their intellec- 
 tual qualities, Lincoln was undoubtedly the superio'" ; foi- 
 
40 i .^ 
 
 while in sagacity and common sense lie was quite equal iv, 
 Washington, in his powers of reasoning and analysis he was 
 mnch greater. Bnt there can be no rivalry between them. 
 If Washington was the Father of his Country, Lincoln was 
 its Saviour. If Washington was the builder oT the temple ol 
 our liberties, Lincoln was the restorer ; and the glory of the 
 second temple is greater than that of the first. They were 
 kindred spirits. Thej^ were both stars of tiie first magnitude 
 in our political firmament, belbre which all others pale their 
 ineffectual fires. They will both shine witli equal brightness 
 upon the page of history, and hand to hand, linked together, 
 they will go do\vn to the remotest posterity. And when, in 
 all time to come, throughout the world, oppressed nations 
 struggle to throw off the yoke of tyrann3% and to lift them- 
 selves from beneath the burdens under whi(di they have been 
 long groaning, they w^ill kindle their enthuvsiasm, and nerve 
 themselves for the contest, by the watchwords of Washington 
 and Lin'oln.