The true peculiarity of Mr. Lincoln has not been seen by his various
biographers; or, if seen, they have failed wofully to give it that
prominence which it deserves. It is said that Newton saw an apple fall
to the ground from a tree, and beheld the law of the universe in that
fall; Shakespeare saw human nature in the laugh of a man; Professor
Owen saw the animal in its claw; and Spencer saw the evolution of the
universe in the growth of a seed. Nature was suggestive to all these
men. Mr. Lincoln no less saw philosophy in a story, and a schoolmaster
in a joke. No man, no men, saw nature, fact, thing, or man from his
stand-point. His was a new and original position, which was always
suggesting, hinting something to him. Nature, insinuations, hints and
suggestions were new, fresh, original and odd to him. The world, fact,
man, principle, all had their powers of suggestion to his susceptible
soul. They continually put him in mind of something. He was odd,
fresh, new, original, and peculiar, for this reason, that he was a
new, odd, and original creation and fact. He had keen susceptibilities
to the hints and suggestions of nature, which always put him in mind
of something known or unknown. Hence his power and tenacity of what is
called association of ideas must have been great. His memory was
tenacious and strong. His susceptibility to all suggestions and hints
enabled him at will to call up readily the associated and classified
fact and idea.
As an evidence of this, especially peculiar to Mr. Lincoln, let me ask
one question. Were Mr. Lincoln's expression and language odd and
original, standing out peculiar from those of all other men? What does
this imply? Oddity and originality of vision as well as expression;
and what is expression in words and human language, but a telling of
what we see, defining the idea arising from and created by vision and
view in us? Words and language are but the counterparts of the
idea--the other half of the idea; they are but the stinging, hot,
heavy, leaden bullets that drop from the mold; and what are they in a
rifle with powder stuffed behind them and fire applied, but an
embodied force pursuing their object? So are words an embodied power
feeling for comprehension in other minds. Mr. Lincoln was often
perplexed to give expression to his ideas: first, because he was not
master of the English language: and, secondly, because there were no
words in it containing the coloring, shape, exactness, power, and
gravity of his ideas. He was frequently at a loss for a word, and
hence was compelled to resort to stories, maxims, and jokes to embody
his idea, that it might be comprehended. So true was this peculiar
mental vision of his, that though mankind has been gathering,
arranging, and classifying facts for thousands of years, Lincoln's
peculiar stand-point could give him no advantage of other men's labor.
Hence he tore up to the deep foundations all arrangements of facts,
and coined and arranged new plans to govern himself. He was compelled,
from his peculiar mental organization, to do this. His labor was
great, continuous, patient and all-enduring.
The truth about this whole matter is that Mr. Lincoln read less and
thought more than any man in his sphere in America. No man can put his
finger on any great book written in the last or present century that
he read. When young he read the Bible, and when of age he read
Shakespeare. This latter book was scarcely ever out of his mind. Mr.
Lincoln is acknowledged to have been a great man, but the question is,
what made him great? I repeat, that he read less and thought more than
any man of his standing in America, if not in the world. He possessed
originality and power of thought in an eminent degree. He was
cautious, cool, concentrated, with continuity of reflection; was
patient and enduring. These are some of the grounds of his wonderful
success.
Not only was nature, man, fact and principle suggestive to Mr.
Lincoln, not only had he accurate and exact perceptions, but he was
causative, i. e., his mind ran back behind all facts, things and
principles to their origin, history and first cause, to that point
where forces act at once as effect and cause. He would stop and stand
in the street and analyze a machine. He would whittle things to a
point, and then count the numberless inclined planes, and their pitch,
making the point. Mastering and defining this, he would then cut that
point back, and get a broad transverse section of his pine stick, and
peel and define that. Clocks, omnibuses and language, paddle-wheels
and idioms, never escaped his observation and analysis. Before he
could form any idea of anything, before he would express his opinion
on any subject, he must know it in origin and history, in substance
and quality, in magnitude and gravity. He must know his subject inside
and outside, upside and down side. He searched his own mind and nature
thoroughly, as I have often heard him say. He must analyze a
sensation, an idea, and words, and run them back to their origin,
history, purpose and destiny. He was most emphatically a remorseless
analyzer of facts, things and principles. When all these processes had
been well and thoroughly gone through, he could form an opinion and
express it, but no sooner. He had no faith. "Say so's" he had no
respect for, coming though they might from tradition, power or
authority.
All things, facts and principles had to run through his crucible and
be tested by the fires of his analytic mind; and hence, when he did
speak, his utterances rang out gold-like, quick, keen and current upon
the counters of the understanding. He reasoned logically, through
analogy and comparison. All opponents dreaded him in his originality
of idea, condensation, definition and force of expression, and woe be
to the man who hugged to his bosom a secret error if Mr. Lincoln got
on the chase of it. I say, woe to him! Time could hide the error in no
nook or corner of space in which he would not detect and expose it.
[Transcriber's Note: Part of this was omitted in original.]
The great predominating elements of Mr. Lincoln's peculiar character,
were: First, his great capacity and power of reason; secondly, his
excellent understanding; thirdly, an exalted idea of the sense of
right and equity; and, fourthly, his intense veneration of what was
true and good. His reason ruled despotically all other faculties and
qualities of his mind. His conscience and heart were ruled by it. His
conscience was ruled by one faculty--reason. His heart was ruled by
two faculties--reason and conscience. I know it is generally believed
that Mr. Lincoln's heart, his love and kindness, his tenderness and
benevolence, were his ruling qualities; but this opinion is erroneous
in every particular. First, as to his reason. He dwelt in the mind,
not in the conscience, and not in the heart. He lived and breathed and
acted from his reason--the throne of logic and the home of principle,
the realm of Deity in man. It is from this point that Mr. Lincoln must
be viewed. His views were correct and original. He was cautious not to
be deceived; he was patient and enduring. He had concentration and
great continuity of thought; he had a profound analytic power; his
visions were clear, and he was emphatically the master of statement.
His pursuit of the truth was indefatigable, terrible. He reasoned from
his well-chosen principles with such clearness, force, and
compactness, that the tallest intellects in the land bowed to him with
respect. He was the strongest man I ever saw, looking at him from the
stand-point of his reason--the throne of his logic. He came down from
that height with an irresistible and crushing force. His printed
speeches will prove this; but his speeches before courts, especially
before the Supreme Courts of the State and Nation, would demonstrate
it: unfortunately, none of them have been preserved. Here he demanded
time to think and prepare. The office of reason is to determine the
truth. Truth is the power of reason--the child of reason. He loved and
idolized truth for its own sake. It was reason's food.
Conscience, the second great quality and force of Mr. Lincoln's
character, is that faculty which loves the just: its office is
justice; right and equity are its correlatives. It decides upon all
acts of all people at all times. Mr. Lincoln had a deep, broad, living
conscience. His great reason told him what was true, good and bad,
right, wrong, just or unjust, and his conscience echoed back its
decision; and it was from this point that he acted and spoke and wove
his character and fame among us. His conscience ruled his heart; he
was always just before he was gracious. This was his motto, his glory:
and this is as it should be. It cannot be truthfully said of any
mortal man that he was always just. Mr. Lincoln was not always just;
but his great general life was. It follows that if Mr. Lincoln had
great reason and great conscience, he was an honest man. His great and
general life was honest, and he was justly and rightfully entitled to
the appellation, "Honest Abe." Honesty was his great polar star.
Mr. Lincoln had also a good understanding; that is, the faculty that
understands and comprehends the exact state of things, their near and
remote relations. The understanding does not necessarily inquire for
the reason of things. I must here repeat that Mr. Lincoln was an odd
and original man; he lived by himself and out of himself. He could not
absorb. He was a very sensitive man, unobtrusive and gentlemanly, and
often hid himself in the common mass of men, in order to prevent the
discovery of his individuality. He had no insulting egotism, and no
pompous pride; no haughtiness, and no aristocracy. He was not
indifferent, however, to approbation and public opinion. He was not an
upstart, and had no insolence. He was a meek, quiet, unobtrusive
gentleman.... Read Mr. Lincoln's speeches, letters, messages and
proclamations, read his whole record in his actual life, and you
cannot fail to perceive that he had good understanding. He understood
and fully comprehended himself, and what he did and why he did it,
better than most living men.
[Transcriber's Note: Part of this was omitted in original.]
There are contradictory opinions in reference to Mr. Lincoln's heart
and humanity. One opinion is that he was cold and obdurate, and the
other opinion is that he was warm and affectionate. I have shown you
that Mr. Lincoln first lived and breathed upon the world from his head
and conscience. I have attempted to show you that he lived and
breathed upon the world through the tender side of his heart, subject
at all times and places to the logic of his reason, and to his exalted
sense of right and equity; namely, his conscience. He always held his
conscience subject to his head; he held his heart always subject to
his head and conscience. His heart was the lowest organ, the weakest
of the three. Some men would reverse this order, and declare that his
heart was his ruling organ; that always manifested itself with love,
regardless of truth and justice, right and equity. The question still
is, was Mr. Lincoln a cold, heartless man, or a warm, affectionate
man? Can a man be a warm-hearted man who is all head and conscience,
or nearly so? What, in the first place, do we mean by a warm-hearted
man? Is it one who goes out of himself and reaches for others
spontaneously because of a deep love of humanity, apart from equity
and truth, and does what it does for love's sake? If so, Mr. Lincoln
was a cold man. Or, do we mean that when a human being, man or child,
approached him in behalf of a matter of right, and that the prayer of
such a one was granted, that this is an evidence of his love? The
African was enslaved, his rights were violated, and a principle was
violated in them. Rights imply obligations as well as duties. Mr.
Lincoln was President; he was in a position that made it his duty,
through his sense of right, his love of principle, his constitutional
obligations imposed upon him by oath of office, to strike the blow
against slavery. But did he do it for love? He himself has answered
the question: "I would not free the slaves if I could preserve the
Union without it." I use this argument against his too enthusiastic
friends. If you mean that this is love for love's sake, then Mr.
Lincoln was a warm-hearted man--not otherwise. To use a general
expression, his general life was cold. He had, however, a strong
latent capacity to love; but the object must first come as principle,
second as right, and third as lovely. He loved abstract humanity when
it was oppressed. This was an abstract love, not concrete in the
individual, as said by some. He rarely used the term love, yet was he
tender and gentle. He gave the key-note to his own character when he
said, "with malice toward none, with charity for all," he did what he
did. He had no intense loves, and hence no hates and no malice. He had
a broad charity for imperfect man, and let us imitate his great life
in this.
"But was not Mr. Lincoln a man of great humanity?" asks a friend at my
elbow, a little angrily; to which I reply, "Has not that question been
answered already?" Let us suppose that it has not. We must understand
each other. What do you mean by humanity? Do you mean that he had much
of human nature in him? If so, I will grant that he was a man of
humanity. Do you mean, if the above definition is unsatisfactory,
that Mr. Lincoln was tender and kind? Then I agree with you. But if
you mean to say that he so loved a man that he would sacrifice truth
and right for him, for love's sake, then he was not a man of humanity.
Do you mean to say that he so loved man, for love's sake, that his
heart led him out of himself, and compelled him to go in search of the
objects of his love, for their sake? He never, to my knowledge,
manifested this side of his character. Such is the law of human
nature, that it cannot be all head, all conscience, and all heart at
one and the same time in one and the same person. Our Maker made it
so, and where God through reason blazed the path, walk therein boldly.
Mr. Lincoln's glory and power lay in the just combination of head,
conscience, and heart, and it is here that his fame must rest, or not
at all.
Not only were Mr. Lincoln's perceptions good; not only was nature
suggestive to him; not only was he original and strong; not only had
he great reason, good understanding; not only did he love the true and
good--the eternal right; not only was he tender and kind--but in due
proportion and in legitimate subordination, had he a glorious
combination of them all. Through his perceptions--the suggestiveness
of nature, his originality and strength; through his magnificent
reason, his understanding, his conscience, his tenderness and
kindness, his heart, rather than love--he approximated as nearly as
most human beings in this imperfect state to an embodiment of the
great moral principle, "Do unto others as ye would they should do
unto you."
"WITH CHARITY FOR ALL"