I.

ON the 12th of February, 1809, two babes were born--one in the woods of

Kentucky, amid the hardships and poverty of pioneers; one in England,

surrounded by wealth and culture. One was educated in the University of

Nature, the other at Cambridge.

One associated his name with the enfranchisement of labor, with the

emancipation of millions, with the salvation of the Republic. He is

known to us as Abraham Lincoln.

The other broke the chains of superstition and filled the world with

intellectual light, and he is known as Charles Darwin.

Nothing is grander than to break chains from the bodies of men--nothing

nobler than to destroy the phantoms of the soul.

Because of these two men the nineteenth century is illustrious.

A few men and women make a nation glorious--Shakespeare made England

immortal, Voltaire civilized and humanized France; Goethe, Schiller and

Humboldt lifted Germany into the light. Angelo, Raphael, Galileo and

Bruno crowned with fadeless laurel the Italian brow, and now the

most precious treasure of the Great Republic is the memory of Abraham

Lincoln.

Every generation has its heroes, its iconoclasts, its pioneers, its

ideals. The people always have been and still are divided, at least into

classes--the many, who with their backs to the sunrise worship the past,

and the few, who keep their faces toward the dawn--the many, who are

satisfied with the world as it is; the few, who labor and suffer for

the future, for those to be, and who seek to rescue the oppressed, to

destroy the cruel distinctions of caste, and to civilize mankind.

Yet it sometimes happens that the liberator of one age becomes the

oppressor of the next. His reputation becomes so great--he is so revered

and worshiped--that his followers, in his name, attack the hero who

endeavors to take another step in advance.

The heroes of the Revolution, forgetting the justice for which they

fought, put chains upon the limbs of others, and in their names the

lovers of liberty were denounced as ingrates and traitors.

During the Revolution our fathers to justify their rebellion dug down

to the bed-rock of human rights and planted their standard there. They

declared that all men were entitled to liberty and that government

derived its power from the consent of the governed. But when victory

came, the great principles were forgotten and chains were put upon the

limbs of men. Both of the great political parties were controlled

by greed and selfishness. Both were the defenders and protectors of

slavery. For nearly three-quarters of a century these parties had

control of the Republic. The principal object of both parties was the

protection of the infamous institution. Both were eager to secure the

Southern vote and both sacrificed principle and honor upon the altar of

success.

At last the Whig party died and the Republican was born. This party was

opposed to the further extension of slavery. The Democratic party of the

South wished to make the "divine institution" national--while the

Democrats of the North wanted the question decided by each territory for

itself.

Each of these parties had conservatives and extremists. The extremists

of the Democratic party were in the rear and wished to go back; the

extremists of the Republican party were in the front, and wished to go

forward. The extreme Democrat was willing to destroy the Union for the

sake of slavery, and the extreme Republican was willing to destroy the

Union for the sake of liberty.

Neither party could succeed without the votes of its extremists.

This was the condition in 1858-60.

When Lincoln was a child his parents removed from Kentucky to Indiana. A

few trees were felled--a log hut open to the south, no floor, no window,

was built--a little land plowed and here the Lincolns lived. Here the

patient, thoughtful, silent, loving mother died--died in the wide forest

as a leaf dies, leaving nothing to her son but the memory of her love.

In a few years the family moved to Illinois. Lincoln then almost grown,

clad in skins, with no woven stitch upon his body--walking and driving

the cattle. Another farm was opened--a few acres subdued and enough

raised to keep the wolf from the door. Lincoln quit the farm--went down

the Ohio and Mississippi as a hand on a flat-boat--afterward clerked

in a country store--then in partnership with another bought the

store--failed. Nothing left but a few debts--learned the art of

surveying--made about half a living and paid something on the

debts--read law--admitted to the bar--tried a few small cases--nominated

for the Legislature and made a speech.

This speech was in favor of a tariff, not only for revenue, but to

encourage American manufacturers and to protect American workingmen.

Lincoln knew then as well as we do now, that everything, to the limits

of the possible, that Americans use should be produced by the energy,

skill and ingenuity of Americans. He knew that the more industries we

had, the greater variety of things we made, the greater would be the

development of the American brain. And he knew that great men and great

women are the best things that a nation can produce,--the finest crop a

country can possibly raise.

He knew that a nation that sells raw material will grow ignorant and

poor, while the people who manufacture will grow intelligent and rich.

To dig, to chop, to plow, requires more muscle than mind, more strength

than thought.

To invent, to manufacture, to take advantage of the forces of

nature--this requires thought, talent, genius. This develops the brain

and gives wings to the imagination.

It is better for Americans to purchase from Americans, even if the

things purchased cost more.

If we purchase a ton of steel rails from England for twenty dollars,

then we have the rails and England the money; But if we buy a ton of

steel rails from an American for twenty-five dollars, then America has

both the rails and the money.

Judging from the present universal depression and the recent elections,

Lincoln, in his first speech, stood on solid rock and was absolutely

right. Lincoln was educated in the University of Nature--educated by

cloud and star--by field and winding stream--by billowed plains and

solemn forests--by morning's birth and death of day--by storm and

night--by the ever eager Spring--by Summer's wealth of leaf and vine and

flower--the sad and transient glories of the Autumn woods--and Winter,

builder of home and fireside, and whose storms without, create the

social warmth within.

He was perfectly acquainted with the political questions of the

day--heard them discussed at taverns and country stores, at voting

places and courts and on the stump. He knew all the arguments for and

against, and no man of his time was better equipped for intellectual

conflict. He knew the average mind--the thoughts of the people, the

hopes and prejudices of his fellow-men. He had the power of accurate

statement. He was logical, candid and sincere. In addition, he had the

"touch of nature that makes the whole world kin."

In 1858 he was a candidate for the Senate against Stephen A. Douglas.

The extreme Democrats would not vote for Douglas, but the extreme

Republicans did vote for Lincoln. Lincoln occupied the middle ground,

and was the compromise candidate of his own party. He had lived for

many years in the intellectual territory of compromise--in a part of

our country settled by Northern and Southern men--where Northern and

Southern ideas met, and the ideas of the two sections were brought

together and compared.

The sympathies of Lincoln, his ties of kindred, were with the South. His

convictions, his sense of justice, and his ideals, were with the North.

He knew the horrors of slavery, and he felt the unspeakable ecstasies

and glories of freedom. He had the kindness, the gentleness, of true

greatness, and he could not have been a master; he had the manhood and

independence of true greatness, and he could not have been a slave.

He was just, and was incapable of putting a burden upon others that he

himself would not willingly bear.

He was merciful and profound, and it was not necessary for him to read

the history of the world to know that liberty and slavery could not live

in the same nation, or in the same brain. Lincoln was a statesman..

And there is this difference between a politician and a statesman.

A politician schemes and works in every way to make the people do

something for him. A statesman wishes to do something for the people.

With him place and power are means to an end, and the end is the good of

his country.

In this campaign Lincoln demonstrated three things--first, that he was

the intellectual superior of his opponent; second, that he was right;

and third, that a majority of the voters of Illinois were on his side.

The Works of Robert G. Ingersoll, Vol. 03 (of 12) Dresden Edition—Lectures · 第 47 / 146 题