CHAPTER XIV. EVIDENCE GATHERED FROM LINCOLN'S LETTERS SPEECHES, AND CONVERSATIONS
Rewards and Punishments—Freedom of Mind—Fatalism—
Providence—Lines in Copy-book—Parker—Paine—Opposition of
Church—Clerical Officious-ness Rebuked—Irreverent Jokes—
Profanity—Temperance Reform—Indorsement of Lord
Bolingbroke's Writings—Golden Rule.
The testimony of one hundred witnesses will now be supplemented by evidence from the tongue and pen of Lincoln himself. The greater portion of what he wrote and uttered against Christianity has perished; but enough has been preserved to demonstrate, even in the absence of other evidence, that he was not a Christian. From his letters, speeches, and recorded conversations, the following radical sentiments have been extracted.
Notwithstanding the efforts of Holland and Bate-man to prove that Lincoln was a believer in Christianity, it is admitted that in his conversation with Bateman, he said:
"I am not a Christian" (Holland's Life of Lincoln, pp. 236, 237).
When his Christian friends at Petersburg interfered to prevent his proposed duel with Shields, and told him that it was contrary to the teachings of the Bible and Christianity, he remarked:
"The Bible is not my book, nor Christianity my profession" (Letter of W. Perkins). While at Washington, in a letter to his old friend, Judge Wakefield, written in 1862, in answer to inquiries respecting his belief and the expressed hope that he had become convinced of the truth of Christianity, he replied as follows:
"My earlier views of the unsoundness of the Christian scheme of salvation and the human origin of the Scriptures have become clearer and stronger with advancing years and I see no reason for thinking I shall ever change them."
In a discussion touching upon the paternity of Jesus, he said:
"There must have been sexual intercourse between man and woman, and not between God and his daughter."
The above words were uttered in the presence of Mr. Green Caruthers and Mr. W. A. Browning, of Springfield.
Lincoln contended that Jesus was either the son of Joseph and Mary, or the illegitimate son of Mary.
In a conversation with his friend, Mr. E. H.
Wood, of Springfield, concerning the doctrine of endless punishment, he said:
"There is no hell."
In regard to this subject, he often observed: "If God be a just God, all will be saved or none" (Manford's Magazine).
The orthodox idea of God—a God that creates poor, fallible beings, and then forever damns them for failing to believe what it is impossible for them to believe—he abhorred. The Golden Rule was his moral standard, and by this standard he measured not only the conduct of man, but of God himself. Like the irrepressible Dr. T. L. Brown, he wanted God to "damn others as he would be damned himself." He delighted to repeat the epitaph of the old Kickapoo Indian, Johnnie Kongapod:
Have mercy on him, gracious God,
As he would do if he were God
And you were Johnnie Kongapod."
Lincoln thought that God ought at least to be as merciful as a respectable savage.
Many contend that the doctrine of future rewards and punishments, even if untrue, has a restraining influence upon the masses of mankind. That Lincoln did not share this fallacious opinion, is shown by the following extract from an address delivered in Springfield in 1842: "Pleasures to be enjoyed, or pains to be endured, after we shall be dead and gone, are but little regarded.... There is something so ludicrous, in promises of good, or threats of evil, a great way off, as to render the whole subject with which they are connected, easily turned into ridicule. 'Better lay down that spade you're stealing, Paddy—if you don't, you'll pay for it at the Day of Judgment.' 'Be the powers, if ye'll credit me so long I'll take another'" (Lincoln Memorial Album, p. 91).
Commenting upon the question of one's returning and communicating with his friends after death, he observed: "It is a doubtful question whether we ever get anywhere to get back" (Statement of E. H. Wood).
He did not believe in the freedom of the will. An observation which he repeatedly made was the following:
"No man has a freedom of mind" (Testimony of W. H. Herndon).
His fatalistic notions are confirmed by his own words: "I have all my life been a fatalist. What is to be will be; or, rather, I have found all my life, as Hamlet says:
Rough-hew them how we will.'"
(Every-Day Life of Lincoln, p. 198).
The following was a favorite maxim with him:
"What is to be will be, and no prayers of ours can arrest the decree" (Statement of Mrs. Lincoln).
In a speech on Kansas, delivered in 1856, he used the following words in regard to Providence: "Friends, I agree with you in Providence; but I believe in the Providence of the most men, the largest purse, and the longest cannon" (Lincoln's Speeches, p. 140).
The writer has in his possession, among others of Lincoln's papers, a leaf from his copybook, tattered and yellow from age, on which, seventy years ago, Lincoln, a school-boy of fourteen, wrote the following characteristic lines:
He will be good, but God knows when."
If by good he meant pious, the prophecy was never fulfilled.
But a short time before he was elected President, he said to Dr. Ray: "I think that I stand about where that man [Theodore Parker] stands" (Statement of Rev. Eobert Collyer).
The author whose writings exerted the greatest influence upon Lincoln's mind, in a theological way, was Thomas Paine. Ah! that potential "Age of Reason!" Criticise it as you may, no one ever yet carefully perused its pages and then honestly affirmed that the Bible is the infallible word of God. Hern-don and others declare that Paine was a part of Lincoln from 1834 till his death. To a friend he said:
"I never tire of reading Paine" (Statement of James Tuttle).
In the later years of his life, when the subject of religion was mentioned, with a knowing smile, he was wont to remark:
"It will not do to investigate the subject of religion too closely, as it is apt to lead to Infidelity" (Manford's Magazine).
It has been stated that Lincoln was opposed in his political campaigns on account of his disbelief. This is confirmed by a letter he wrote to Martin M. Morris, of Petersburg, Ill., March 26,1843. In this letter, he says:
"There was, too, the strangest combination of church influence against me. Baker is a Campbellite; and therefore, as I suppose, with few exceptions, got all that church. My wife has some relatives in the Presbyterian churches, and some with the Episcopal churches; and therefore, wherever it would tell, I was set down as either the one or the other, while it was everywhere contended that no Christian ought to go for me, because I belonged to no church—was suspected of being a Deist.... Those influences levied a tax of a considerable per cent upon my strength throughout the religious controversy" (Lamon's Life of Lincoln, p. 271).
He never changed his opinions, and the church never ceased to oppose him. In the Bateman interview, seventeen years later, he was compelled to note its relentless intolerance:
"Here are twenty-three ministers of different denominations, and all of them are against me but three; and here are a great many prominent members of the churches, a very large majority of whom are against me" (Holland's Life of Lincoln, p. 236).
For thirty years the church endeavored to crush Lincoln, but when, in spite of her malignant opposition, he achieved a glorious immortality, this same church, to hide the mediocrity of her devotees, attempts to steal his deathless name.
In a speech delivered in Springfield, in 1857, alluding to the negro, he said: "All the powers of the earth seem rapidly combining against him. Mammon is after him,... and the theology of the day is fast joining in the cry" (Lincoln Memorial Album, p. 100).
The theology of the day was orthodox Christianity. "In this sentence," says Mr. Herndon, "he intended to hit Christianity a left-handed blow, and a hard one."
In his Second Inaugural address, referring to the contending Christian elements in the civil war, he says: "Both read the same Bible and pray to the same God, and each invokes his aid against the other."
What a commentary upon the hypocritical assumption that Christians possess an infallible moral standard, is contained in the above words!
The "Lincoln Memorial Album" pretends to give the Second Inaugural complete, but omits the words quoted. As this address comes almost immediately after his reputed speech to the "Illinois clergyman," the editor probably noticed a lack of harmony between the two, and thought that the retention of these heretical words would cast suspicion upon the genuineness of that remarkable confession. The "Memorial Album" is a meritorious work, but had Mr. Oldroyd manifested as great a desire to present the genuine utterances of Lincoln as the apocryphal, its value would have been enhanced. The unmutilated version of the last Inaugural may be found in Holland's "Life of Lincoln," pp. 503, 504; Arnold's "Life of Lincoln," pp. 403, 404; Arnold's "Lincoln and Slavery," pp. 625-627; and "The Every-Day Life of Lincoln," pp. 681, 682.
No President, probably, was ever so much annoyed by the clergy as Lincoln. The war produced an increased religious fervor, and theological tramps innumerable, usually labeled "D. D.," visited the White House, each with a mission to perform and a precious morsel of advice to offer. In the following caustic words, he expresses his contempt for their officiousness: "I am approached with the most opposite opinions and advice, and by religious men who are certain they represent the Divine will.... I hope it will not be irreverent in me to say, that if it be probable that God would reveal his will to others, on a point so connected with my duty, it might be supposed he would reveal it directly to me" (Religious Convictions of Abraham Lincoln).
Equally pertinent, and, indeed, similar was his language to a pious lady, a Friend, who came as God's agent to instruct him what to do: "I have neither time nor disposition to enter into discussion with the Friend, and end this occasion by suggesting for her consideration the question, whether, if it be true that the Lord has appointed me [she claimed that he had] to do the works she has indicated, it is [(is it) PG Ed.] not probable that he would have communicated knowledge of the fact to me as well as to her?" (Every-Day Life of Lincoln, pp. 536, 537).
He steadily prohibited his generals from meddling with the religious affairs of those residing within the limits of their respective departments, and at the same time counseled them not to permit the pretended sanctity of the church to shield offenders from justice.
In a letter to General Curtis, censuring the provost marshal of St. Louis for interfering with church matters, he writes: "The United States Government must not undertake to run the churches. When an individual in a church, or out of it, becomes dangerous to the public interest he must be checked" (Nicolay and Hay's Life of Lincoln).
In an order relating to a church in Memphis, issued May 13, 1864, he said: "If there be no military need for the building, leave it alone, neither putting any one in or out of it, except on finding some one preaching or practicing treason, in which case lay hands upon him, just as if he were doing the same thing in any other building" (Ibid).
During the war his attention was called to the notoriously bad character of army chaplains. He expressed his contempt for them, and for orthodox preachers generally, by relating the following story: "Once, in Springfield, I was going off on a short journey, and reached the depot a little ahead of time. Leaning against the fence just outside the depot was a little darky boy, whom I knew, named Dick, busily digging with his toe in a mud-puddle. As I came up, I said, 'Dick, what are you about? 'Making a church,' said he. 'A church?' said I; 'what do you mean?' 'Why, yes,' said Dick, pointing with his toe, 'don't you see? there is the shape of it; there's the steps and front door—here's the pews, where the folks set—and there's the pulpit.' 'Yes, I see,' said I, 'but why don't you make a minister?' 'Laws,' answered Dick, with a grin, 'I hain't got mud enough'" (Anecdotes of Lincoln, p. 86).
The most highly aristocratic church in Washington is St John's Episcopal church. So very aristocratic is it that applicants for membership deem it necessary to give references respecting their social standing in the community. The New York Star relates the following joke which Lincoln once perpetrated at the expense of this church: "One day during the war a young officer called on him to secure an appointment in the army, and brought with him letters of recommendation signed by the F. E. V.'s in the District of Columbia. There had been no application for office before President Lincoln so strongly supported by the aristocracy, and, turning to the young man, he said he would give him the appointment and handed him back the papers. 'Don't you want to place the papers on file?' asked the office-seeker. 'I supposed that was the custom.' 'Yes, that is the custom,' said President Lincoln, 'but you had better take them with you, as you might want to join St. John's church.'"
Did Lincoln ever use profane language? If he did, this fact will afford no evidence to Freethinkers that he was a disbeliever in Christianity. Freethinkers are as free from this vice, if vice it be, as Christians. Very pious persons, however, such as Lincoln is represented to have been by his Christian biographers, are very careful about their use of profane words. Christ commanded his followers to pray in private, and bade them swear not at all. Devout Christians usually pray in public and swear in private. Lincoln was but little addicted to profanity, but if he had occasion to use a word of this character he did not go to his closet to use it. In a business letter to a friend, he said:
"A d———d hawk-billed Yankee is here besetting me at every turn" (Lamon's Life of Lincoln, p. 316).
In a letter to Speed, concerning an alleged murder case, he wrote:
"Hart, the little drayman that hauled Molly home once, said it was too damned bad to have so much trouble and no hanging" (Ibid, p. 321).
For the sake of pleasing the "fools," he attached his signature to "the pious nonsense of Seward," With equal readiness he indorsed the profane nonsense (?) of Stanton. During the war the patriotic Lovejoy had devised a military scheme which he believed would prove beneficial to the Union cause, and obtained an order from the President for its execution. He took the order to Stanton, but all that ever resulted from it was the following spirited colloquy:
"'Did Lincoln give you an order of that kind?' said Stanton. 'He did, sir.' 'Then he is a d———d fool,' said the irate Secretary. 'Do you mean to say the President is a d———d fool?' asked Lovejoy, in amazement. 'Yes, sir, if he gave you such an order as that.' The bewildered Illinoisan betook himself at once to the President, and related the result of his conference. "Did Stanton say I was a d———d fool?' asked Lincoln at the close of the recital. 'He did, sir, and repeated it.' After a moment's pause, and looking up, the President said:
'If Stanton said I was a d———d fool, then I must be one, for he is nearly always right, and generally says what he means'" (Every-Day Life of Lincoln, pp. 483, 484).
At a Cabinet meeting, in 1863, when a conflict between the President and Congress regarding the admission of certain representatives from loyal districts of the South, which he favored, was threatened, he turned to Secretary Chase, and exclaimed: "There it is, sir. I am to be bullied by Congress, am I? If I do I'll be d———d!"
When Lincoln visited New Orleans he attended a slave sale. A beautiful girl, almost white, was placed upon the auction block and exposed to the grossest indignities. As he turned to leave, boiling with indignation, he exclaimed:
"By God, if I ever get a chance to hit that institution, I will hit it hard" (Arnold's Life of Lincoln, Note).
Thirty years later the chance came. He struck the blow—a mortal one.
The following is a prayer which Lincoln, while at the White House, put into the mouth of a belated traveler who was caught in a violent thunderstorm:
"O Lord, if it is all the same to you, give us a little more light and a little less noise!" (Six Months at the White House, p. 49).
Is it possible that a Christian and a Calvinist would repeat such an irreverent, not to say blasphemous, supplication? According to the Brooklyn Calvinist, God visits such supplicants with paralysis and petrifaction.
Like most Freethinkers, Lincoln was a genuine reformer. The Antislavery reform was not the only reform that enlisted his support. At an early day he espoused the Temperance cause. When the church was the ally of intemperance as it was of slavery—when, to use his own words, "From the sideboard of the parson down to the ragged pocket of the houseless loafer intoxicating liquor was constantly found," he was laboring and lecturing in behalf of the Washingtonian movement. With the fervor of an enthusiast, he exclaims in true Free-thought language: "Happy day, when, all appetites controlled, all passions subdued, all matter subjugated, mind, all-conquering mind, shall live and move, the monarch of the world! Glorious consummation! Hail, fall of fury! Reign of Reason, all hail!" (Lincoln Memorial Album, p. 96).
To sumptuary laws and to the denunciatory methods so common among orthodox Christians to-day, he was, however, strenuously opposed. He says: "It is not much in the nature of man to be driven to anything; still less to be driven about that which is exclusively his own business" (Ibid, p. 86).
"When the conduct of men is designed to be influenced, persuasion, kind, unassuming persuasion, should ever be adopted" (lb., p. 87).
His nephew, Mr. Hall, informed me that Lincoln once made it cost a meddlesome clergyman, of Coles County, eighty dollars for seizing and destroying a quart of whisky, valued at twelve and a half cents, and belonging to a relative of theirs.
In this chapter I wish to present some radical thoughts, not from the pen of Lincoln himself, but which in the work from which they are taken bear unmistakable signs of his approval. Mr. D. W. C. Shattuck, an old and respected merchant of Way-land, Mich., has in his possession a book which belonged to Lincoln. Its history is as follows: Shortly after Lincoln's election to the Presidency a young man from Springfield, Ill., and a relative or intimate acquaintance of Lincoln's, came to board with Mr. Shattuck, who then resided in Kalamazoo. Looking over the contents of his trunk one day the young man picked up a book and at the same time remarked: "That book belongs to Abe Lincoln. I forgot to return it to him before leaving Springfield. It is his favorite book, and I must not fail to return it." Mr. Shattuck expressing a desire to peruse the work, it was handed to him, and the young man being soon after unexpectedly called away, it was forgotten. It proved to be a volume of the writings of Lord Bolingbroke, the great English Infidel. On a fly-leaf was the signature of Abraham Lincoln. In the work certain passages which seem to have especially impressed Lincoln are marked with a pencil and in a manner peculiar to him. The following are the passages he marked, which I have copied from the book, and which evidently received his unqualified indorsement:
"Abbadie says in his famous book, that the Gospel of St. Matthew is cited by Clemens Bishop of Borne, a disciple of the Apostles; that Barnabas cites it in his epistle; that Ignatius and Polycarp receive it; and that the same Fathers, that give testimony for Matthew, give it likewise for Mark. Nay, your lordship will find, I believe, that the present Bishop of London, in his third pastoral letter, speaks to the same effect. I will not trouble you nor myself with any more instances of the same kind. Let this, which occurred to me as I was writing, suffice. It may well suffice; for I presume the fact advanced by the minister and the Bishop is a mistake. If the Fathers of the First Century do mention some passages that are agreeable to what we read in our Evangelists, will it follow that these Fathers had the same gospels before them? To say so is a manifest abuse of history, and quite inexcusable in writers that knew, or should have known, that these Fathers made use of other gospels, wherein such passages might be contained, or they might be preserved in unwritten tradition. Besides which I could almost venture to affirm that these Fathers of the First Century do not expressly name the gospels we have of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John." "Writers of the Roman religion have attempted to show, that the text of the Holy Writ is on many accounts insufficient to be the sole criterion of orthodoxy; I apprehend too that they have shown it. Sure I am that experience, from the first promulgation of Christianity to this hour, shows abundantly with how much ease and success the most opposite, the most extravagant, nay the most impious opinions, and the most contradictory faiths, may be founded on the same text; and plausibly defended by the same authority. Writers of the Reformed religion have erected their batteries against tradition; and the only difficulty they had to encounter in this enterprise lay in leveling and pointing their cannon so as to avoid demolishing, in one common ruin, the traditions they retain, and those they reject. Each side has been employed to weaken the cause and explode the system of his adversary; and, whilst they have been so employed, they have jointly laid their axes to the root of Christianity; for thus men will be apt to reason upon what they have advanced. 'If the text has not that authenticity, clearness, and precision which are necessary to establish it as a divine and a certain rule of faith and practice; and if the tradition of the church from the first ages of it till the days of Luther and Calvin, has been corrupted itself, and has served to corrupt the faith and practice of Christians; there remains at this time no standard at all of Christianity. By consequence either this religion was not originally of divine institution, or else God has not provided effectually for preserving the genuine purity of it, and the gates of hell have prevailed, in contradiction to his promise, against the church.'" "I have read somewhere, perhaps in the works of St. Jerome, that this Father justifies the opinion of those who think it impossible to fix any certain chronology on that of the Bible; and this opinion will be justified still better, to the understanding of every man that considers how grossly the Jews blunder whenever they meddle with chronology." "The resurrection of letters was a fatal period; the Christian system has been attacked, and wounded too, very severely since that time."
When interrogated as to why he had never united with any church, Lincoln replied: "When you show me a church based on the Golden Rule as its only creed, then I will unite with it."
He never joined a church, because of all the Christian sects, not one could show such a creed. The Golden Rule—conceding to others the same rights he claimed for himself—was, however, the very cornerstone of Freethought, and hence he remained a Freethinker.
CHAPTER XV. RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION
Adduced in Proof of Lincoln's Unbelief—Douglas an
Unbeliever—Theodore Parker's Theology—Fallacy of Claims
Respecting Lincoln's Reputed Conversion—His Invocations of
Deity—His Alleged Regard for the Sabbath—The Church and
Hypocrisy—Lincoln's Religion.
In the prosecution of this inquiry, the testimony of one hundred and twenty witnesses has been presented. The testimony of twenty of these witnesses is to the effect that Lincoln was a Christian; the testimony of one hundred is to the effect that he was not.
Of those who have testified in support of the claim that Lincoln was a Christian, ten admit that during a part of his life he was a disbeliever in Christianity, while not one of the remaining ten disputes the fact. If he never changed his belief then he died an unbeliever. Did he change his belief and become a convert to Christianity? It devolves upon those who affirm that he did to prove it. Have they done this? They have not. Their attempts have been in every instance pitiable failures. The unreasonable and conflicting character of the testimony adduced refutes itself. When was he converted? No less than five different dates have been assigned. One witness states that it was in 1848; one, that it was in 1858; another, that it was in 1862; another, that it was in July, 1863; and still another, that it was in November, 1863.
The remarkable character of the statements recorded in Chapter I.—remarkable when compared with the statements given in the preceding ten chapters, and not less remarkable when compared with each other—may be variously accounted for. A part of them are based upon a false premise, an erroneous conception of what the term Christian means; a portion of them are merely the expressions of beliefs unsupported by actual knowledge; while a not inconsiderable share of them are the statements of those who have knowingly and deliberately borne false witness. These witnesses comprise: 1. Those who do not know what constitutes a Christian—who confound Christianity with morality—who affirm that he was a Christian simply because he was a moral man. 2. Those who do not know what his religious views were, but who infer that he was a Christian because others have declared that he was, and because of the frequent allusions to Deity that occur in his speeches and state papers. 3. Those who know that he was not a Christian, but who believe it to be right and proper to lie for the glory of Christianity and the profit of its priests.
The testimony advanced in support of the claim of Lincoln's Christianity is, for the most part, the testimony of orthodox Christians—a majority of them orthodox clergymen. Dr. Holland, the chief of these Christian claimants, says: "The fact is a matter of history that he never exposed his own religious life to those who had no sympathy with it." This, so far as the later years of his life are concerned, is substantially true; and this very fact precludes the possibility of these orthodox witnesses being able to state from personal knowledge what his religious views were.
In refutation of this claim, I have presented the testimony of those who were nearest to Lincoln, in the confidential relations of life. I have presented the testimony of his wife, the testimony of his stepmother, the testimony of his step-sister, the testimony of his cousin, the testimony of his nephew, the testimony of his three law partners, the testimony of four members of his Cabinet, the testimony of his private secretary, the testimony of his executor, the testimony of seven of his biographers, and the testimony of many more of his most intimate friends both in Illinois and at Washington.
That he was not an orthodox Christian, as claimed, is attested by nearly all of the one hundred witnesses whose testimony has been given; that he was not in any sense of the term a Christian is proved by the testimony of a majority of them.
I affirmed that he was not religious in his youth—that he was a skeptic in Indiana. In proof of this I have adduced the testimony of his step-mother, Sarah Lincoln; his step-sister, Matilda Moore; his cousin, Dennis F. Hanks; his nephew, John Hall; his law partner, W. H. Herndon, and his biographer, Col. Ward H. Lamon.
I affirmed that he was an Infidel or Freethinker, during the thirty years that he resided in Illinois. In support of this I have given the testimony of Colonel Lamon, W. H. Herndon, Maj. John T. Stuart, Col. James H. Matheny, Dr. C. H. Ray, W. H. Hannah, James W. Keys, Jesse W. Fell, Judge David Davis, Wm. McNeely, Mr. Lynan, Wm. G. Green, Joshua F. Speed, Green Caruthers, Squire Perkins, Judge Gillespie, John Decamp, James Gorley, Dr. Wm. Jayne, Jesse K. Dubois, Judge Logan, Leonard Swett, W. H. T. Wakefield, D. W. Wilder, Dr. B. F. Gardner, J. K. Vandemark, Judge Leachman, Orin B. Gould, Edward Butler, M. S. Go win, J. H. Chenery, J. B. Spalding, Ezra Stringham, Col. R. G. Ingersoll, A. Jeffrey, Dr. McNeal, Charles McGrew, J. L. Morrell, Judge A. D. Norton, W. W. Perkins, H. K. Magie, James Tuttle, Leonard Volk, Col. F. S. Rutherford, E. H. Wood, Dr. J. J. Thomson, A. J. Grover, Judge Nelson, and others.
I affirmed that he did not change his belief after leaving Illinois—that he was not converted to Christianity at Washington—that he died an unbeliever. In confirmation of this I have presented the testimony of his wife, Mary Lincoln; of his private secretary, Colonel Nicolay; of his executor, Judge Davis; of his biographer, Colonel Lamon; and of his intimate associates, Geo. W. Julian, John B. Alley, Schuyler Colfax, Hugh McCulloch, A. J. Grover, Donn Piatt, Judge Nelson, and others.
Many of these witnesses simply testify to his disbelief in the Christian system as a whole without reference to his particular views concerning its individual tenets. Every statement of his unbelief as presented in the introduction has, however, been substantiated by the testimony of one or more witnesses. That he did not believe in the Christian Deity, that he even held Agnostic and Atheistic views, at times, is proved by the testimony of W. H. Herndon, Colonel Matheny, Judge Nelson, Jesse K. Dubois, and D. W. Wilder
That he was an Agnostic in regard to the immortality of the soul is attested by E. H. Wood, Judge Nelson, and W. H. Herndon.
That he did not believe that the Bible is the word of God is affirmed by Colonel Lamon, John T. Stuart, Judge Matheny, W. H. Herndon, Jesse W. Fell, Dennis Hanks, W. Perkins, Colonel Rutherford, and Chambers' Encyclopedia.
That he did not believe that Jesus Christ was the son of God is affirmed by Colonel Lamon, W. H. Herndon, Jesse W. Fell. Colonel Matheny, John T. Stuart, Jas. W. Keys, Judge Nelson, D. W. Wilder, Green Caruthers, Colonel Rutherford, Rev. J. Lloyd Jones, Chambers' Encyclopedia, and the New York World.
That he did not believe in a special creation, the statements of Mr. Herndon clearly prove.
That he accepted the theory of Evolution, so far as this theory had been developed in the "Vestiges of Creation" and other writings of his day, is attested by the same witness.
That he did not admit the possibility of miracles is confirmed by the statement of Jesse W. Fell, W. Perkins, Dennis Hanks, and Mr. Herndon.
That he rejected the Christian doctrine of total or inherent depravity, William McNeely and Jesse W. Fell affirm.
That he repudiated the doctrine of vicarious atonement is sustained by the testimony of Jesse W. Fell, Joshua F. Speed, W. Perkins, and Colonel Lamon.
That he condemned the doctrine of forgiveness for sin, General Wilder and Mr. Herndon both testify.
That he opposed the doctrine of future rewards and punishments, Win. H. Hannah, E H. Wood, A. Jeffrey, Jesse W. Fell, and Manford's Magazine, all testify.
That he denied the freedom of the will, Mr. Herndon explicitly affirms.
That he did not believe in the efficacy of prayer is fully established by the evidence of Mrs. Lincoln, Mr. Herndon, and Dr. Gardner.
That he was a disciple of Thomas Paine and Theodore Parker is shown by the evidence of Colonel Lamon, W. H. Herndon, James Tuttle, Jesse W. Fell, Dr. Ray, Robert Collyer, the New York World, and Chambers' Encyclopedia.
That he wrote a book against Christianity is sustained by the testimony of Colonel Matheny, Judge Nelson, W. H. Herndon, Colonel Lamon, J. B. Spalding, A. Jeffrey, J. H. Chenery, Chicago Herald, Manford's Magazine, and Chambers' Encyclopedia.
That Lincoln did not believe in the inspiration of the Scriptures, that he did not believe in the divinity of Christ, that he did not believe in the freedom of the will, that he did not believe in future rewards and punishments, that he did not believe in the efficacy of prayer, that he was, in short, a disbeliever in Christianity, is also attested by the evidence cited from his own recorded words.
In connection with this controversy the significance of the following facts cannot be overlooked: 1. Notwithstanding the strong temptation to credit Lincoln to the popular faith, a majority of his biographers have either declared that he was not a Christian, or have refrained from affirming that he was. 2. The secular press, fearing to offend the church, has generally been silent regarding the question. When it has ventured to express an opinion, however, it has been to concede his unbelief. 3. The leading encyclopedias, such as the Britannica, Chambers', New American, etc., have either admitted that he was a Freethinker, or have made no reference to his religious belief. 4. In the "Lincoln Memorial Album" appear two hundred tributes to Lincoln, the greater portion of them from the pens of Christians. In but two of these two hundred tributes is it claimed that Lincoln was a believer in Christianity. 5. The "Reminiscences of Lincoln" contain thirty-three articles on Lincoln, written by as many distinguished men who were acquainted with him. In not a single instance in this work, is it asserted that he was a Christian. 6. In none of the leading eulogies pronounced upon his character, at the time of his demise, is it affirmed that he accepted Christ.
It is stated that during the last years of his life Lincoln held substantially the same theological opinions held by Theodore Parker. His own words are, referring to Parker: "I think that I stand about where that man stands." Where did Theodore Parker stand? The following extracts from his writings will show: "To obtain a knowledge of duty, a man is not sent away, outside of himself, to ancient documents; for the only rule of faith and practice, the Word, is very nigh him, even in his heart, and by this Word he is to try all documents." "There is no intercessor, angel, mediator, between man and God; for man can speak and God hear, each for himself. He requires no advocates to plead for men." "Manly, natural religion—it is not joining the church; it is not to believe in a creed—Hebrew, Christian, Catholic, Protestant, Trinitarian, Unitarian, Nothingarian. It is not to keep Sunday idle; to attend meeting; to be wet with water; to read the Bible; to offer prayers in words; to take bread and wine in the meeting-house; love a scapegoat Jesus, or any other theological claptrap."
If Lincoln was known to be a Freethinker, it may be asked why this fact was not more generally published and urged against him during the Presidential campaign of 1860. The answer is easy. His chief opponent, Douglas, was himself a Freethinker. Stephen A. Douglas, like Abraham Lincoln, died an unbeliever. Like Washington, he declined the services of a clergyman in his last hours. The following is an extract from a monograph on "The Deathbed of Douglas," published in the Boston Budget: "When Stephen A. Douglas lay stricken with death at Chicago, his wife, who was a devout Roman Catholic, sent for Bishop Duggan, who asked whether he had ever been baptized according to the rites of any church. 'Never,' replied Mr. Douglas. 'Do you desire to have mass said after the ordinances of the holy Catholic church?' inquired the Bishop. 'No, sir!' answered Douglas; 'when I do I will communicate with you freely.'
"The Bishop withdrew, but the next day Mrs. Douglas sent for him again, and, going to the bedside, he said: 'Mr. Douglas, you know your own condition fully, and in view of your dissolution do you desire the ceremony of extreme unction to be performed?' 'No!' replied the dying man, 'I have no time to discuss these things now.'
"The Bishop left the room, and Mr. Rhodes, who was in attendance, said: 'Do you know the clergymen of this city?' 'Nearly every one of them.' 'Do you wish to have either or any of them call to see you to converse on religious topics?' 'No, I thank you,' was the decided answer."
Among America's most eminent statesmen none probably ever possessed a more logical mind than Lincoln. Judge Davis says: "His mind was logical and direct." James G. Blaine says: "His logic was severe and faultless." George S. Boutwell says: "He takes rank with the first logicians and orators of every age." In his funeral oration at Springfield, Bishop Simpson said: "If you ask me on what mental characteristic his greatness rested, I answer, on a quick and ready perception of facts; on a memory unusually tenacious and retentive; and on a logical turn of mind, which followed sternly and unwaveringly every link in the chain of thought on every subject he was called to investigate."
Lincoln was once called to investigate the subject of Christianity. He "followed sternly and unwaveringly every link in the chain of thought" suggested by this subject, and the result was its rejection by him.
If he was subsequently converted to Christianity, it was only after a reexamination and a thorough and exhaustive investigation of its claims. This his friends positively state never took place, and the circumstances associated with each and every period assigned for his reputed conversion confirm their statements. In 1848 he was a member of Congress, his mind absorbed with the novelties, the duties, and the aspirations that usually attend a first term in this important capacity. In 1858, and for years preceding and following, the great political questions of the day occupied his mind. He was engaged in a mortal struggle with one of the most powerful intellectual athletes of his time. He was contending with Douglas for a prize, and that prize was the Presidency. He must be ever on the alert. He must crush his antagonist or his antagonist would crush him. Think of Lincoln sitting down in the very crisis of this conflict and engaging in the study of theology! In 1862, and 1863, the other years assigned for his conversion, he was in the midst of the great Rebellion, all his thoughts and all his energies enlisted in the mighty task of saving the Union.
That Lincoln was a Freethinker in Illinois, that he was for a time a zealous propagandist of his faith, that he was instrumental in making unbelievers of many of his associates, it is useless to deny. If he was afterward converted to Christianity, his friends were ignorant of his conversion. He failed to notify them of his previous mistake and warn them of their impending danger. If it could be shown that he renounced his former views and became a Christian, this fact would be one of the most damaging arguments against Christianity that could be advanced. As a Freethinker he was one of the most tender and humane of men, ever solicitous for the welfare of his fellow-beings. Did Christianity transform him into a selfish, heartless being, who coolly disregarded even the eternal welfare of his best and dearest friends? Think of a man directing a friend to take a road which he afterward discovers leads to certain death, and then not lifting a finger of warning to save him from destruction, when it is in his power to do so!
The Freethinker will require no other evidence to convince him that Lincoln died a disbeliever than the fact that he once fully investigated this subject and proclaimed himself an Infidel. The mere skeptic who has no settled convictions—who has never examined the evidences against historical Christianity—may become a sincere believer in the Christian religion. The confirmed Freethinker never can, albeit a Thomas Cooper, a Joseph Barker and a George Chainey may profess to. As Col. Thomas Wentworth Higginson happily expresses it: "You may take the robin's egg from the nest in yonder tree, and so near is the bird to being hatched you may crack it with the edge of your nail, and the bird is free. But all your power, and all your patient fidelity, and all the mucilage and sticking plaster you can put on it, will never get that birdling back into that little egg again. So complete is the sense of satisfaction, such is the feeling of freedom, which comes from once finding yourself, not merely out of these little sectarian names, but out of the name of the larger and grander sect, which is Christianity, that you will find when the egg is once broken, the bird is free forever."
From the church steward's standpoint, there is nothing so desirable as the early conversion of one who is destined to become rich. From the evangelist's point of view, there is nothing like the deathbed repentance of one who has become great. Had the bullet of the assassin not immediately destroyed consciousness, all these stories that we have heard about Lincoln's conversion—the Edwards story, the Smith story, the Brooks story, the Willets story, the Vinton story, and the story of the Illinois clergyman—would never have been invented. Instead of these we would have the story of some domestic, or some intruding priest who saw him during his dying hours. Aaron Burr was kinder to the church than John Wilkes Booth.
But whatever the religious opinions of Lincoln were when he died, whether he had changed his belief or not, in view of the fact that he never thought enough of the church to unite with it, the frantic efforts of clergymen and church-members to claim him seem quite uncalled for, if not ridiculous.
The opinion of a writer previously quoted in this work, is that the bitter war waged against the persons who have declared that Lincoln was not a Christian arises, not from a belief that they have stated what is false, but from a consciousness that they have "demolished an empty shrine that was profitable to many, and broken a painted idol that might have served for a god." It is strange how Christians tend toward fetichism. Not satisfied with three Gods, they must canonize and deify men and make saints and demi-gods. They have already deified three Americans—Washington, Grant, and Lincoln—and what is remarkable, in each instance they have selected an unbeliever—an Infidel. It is said that men have stolen the livery of heaven in which to serve the devil; but it seems hardly consistent with the pretensions of the church that she should be compelled to appropriate the beadroll of Infidelity in order to make her appear respectable.
Lincoln's speeches and state papers contain many allusions to Deity. As Colonel Lamon observes, "These were easy, and not inconsistent with his religious notions." But it is a mistake to attribute all the Deistic expressions that appear in his state papers to him. Just how much of this was the work of his private secretaries, how much of it was "Seward's nonsense," or how much of it was suggested by Chase and other Cabinet ministers, can never be determined. It is significant, however, that in those documents of least importance, those which he would most likely leave to his secretaries or other officials to draft, these expressions are chiefly to be found. In his debates with Douglas, and his other great political speeches delivered in Illinois, he seldom refers to Deity. In his carefully prepared Cooper Institute address, that model of political addresses, the name of Deity does not once occur. In his First Inaugural Address, he refers to God, and makes a complimentary reference to Christianity intended to conciliate the church and gain for his administration its support in the coming struggle with the South. One paragraph of the second Inaugural contains allusions to Deity and quotations from the Bible; but in this address he makes no recognition of Christ or Christianity. Even his quotations from the Bible are made in a guarded manner which clearly indicates that he did not believe in its divinity. In the Preliminary Proclamation of Emancipation, which was drafted by himself, the name of Deity does not appear. In the final Proclamation, an acknowledgment of God was inserted only at the urgent request of Secretary Chase. The Emancipation Proclamation, with the possible exception of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States, is the most important political document ever issued in America. He knew that this was the crowning act of his career, that it would place him among the immortals. In the preparation of this work he expended much thought and labor, and it was his desire that it should be free from religious verbiage. In that masterpiece of eloquence, the Gettysburg oration, the name of God occurs but once, while not the remotest reference to Christianity or even immortality appears. When we take into consideration the fact that this address was made at the dedication of a cemetery, the significance of this omission can not be overlooked. This speech was the product of Lincoln's own mind free from the suggestions and emendations of others, and the occasion was too sacred to indulge in pious cant in which he did not believe.
The clergy parade Lincoln's recognitions of a Supreme Being as a triumphant refutation of the claim that he was an Infidel. Yet, at the same time, they do not hesitate to denounce as Infidels, Paine and Voltaire, when they know, or ought to know, that two more profound and reverential believers in God never lived and wrote than Paine and Voltaire.
If Infidelity and Atheism were synonymous terms it would be difficult to maintain that Lincoln, during the last years of his life at least, was an Infidel. But Infidelity and Atheism are not synonymous terms. An Atheist is an Infidel, but an Infidel is not necessarily an Atheist. A Presbyterian is a Christian, but all Christians are not Presbyterians. Christians themselves coined the word Infidel, and they have used it to denote a disbeliever in Christianity. A disbelief or denial of Christianity is not necessarily a denial of God. Christians, many of them, regard the term as odious and as carrying with it the idea of immorality, notwithstanding the most intelligent and the most highly moral class in Christendom are these so-called Infidels. "Who are to-day's Infidels?" says the Rev. William Ohanning Gannett. He answers: "Very many of the brightest minds, the warmest hearts, the most loyal consciences, the most zealous seekers after God, the most honest tellers of what they find—yes, and the most successful finders. Infidels to what are they? Not to morality: Infidels to morality are too wise to train with them."
It is not claimed that Lincoln was wholly free from a belief in the supernatural. He possessed in some respects a simple, childlike nature, and carried with him through life some of the superstitions of childhood. But the dogmas of Christianity were not among them; these he had examined and discarded.
As a proof of Lincoln's regard for Christian institutions, great prominence is given to his proclamation to the army enjoining the observance of the Sabbath. This document gives expression to sentiments regarding the sanctity of the Christian Sabbath that Lincoln personally did not entertain. It was issued to appease the clamor of the clergy who demanded it, and was drafted, not by Lincoln, but by some pious Sabbatarian. Lincoln himself attached no more sanctity to Sunday than to other days. He worked on Sunday himself. In Springfield his Sundays were frequently spent in preparing cases for court. In company with his boys he often passed the entire day making excursions into the country or rambling through the woods that skirted the Sangamon. He seldom went to church either in Springfield or Washington, the claims of some of his Christian biographers to the contrary notwithstanding. Previous to his nomination, in 1860, we find him sitting for a bust on Sunday in preference to attending church. On the Sunday immediately following his nomination an artist was busy with him molding his hands and taking negatives for a statue. The draft of the preliminary Proclamation of Emancipation was finished on Sunday. The last Sunday of his life was spent, not in studying the Scriptures, but in reading his beloved Shakespere.
It was stated by friends of Lincoln that he generally refrained from giving publicity to his religious opinions while in public life because of their unpopularity. In answer to this the Christian claimant retorts: "If this be true then he was a hypocrite." But let us be honest. Nearly every person entertains opinions which he does not deem it discreet or necessary to make public. You, my Christian friend, entertain doubts and heresies concerning your creed which you keep a secret or disclose only to your most intimate associates. If you, in private life, and not dependent upon the public, hide your unpopular thoughts from the world, can you consistently blame Lincoln for his silence when the fate of a nation depended upon him and the alienation even of a few bigots might turn the scales against him? A Christian general does not hesitate to deceive the enemy or withhold his plans even from his own soldiers. Again, the clergy are forever advising and entreating men not to publish their doubts and heresies. Is it consistent in them to condemn a man for following their advice?
The church should learn to respect honesty herself before she charges others with dishonesty. It is the shame of Christianity that men have been obliged to conceal their honest convictions in order to escape ostracism and persecution. When the church herself becomes honest enough to tolerate and respect the honest opinions of those who cannot conscientiously accept her creed, then will it be time for her to charge Lincoln with hypocrisy for having partially withheld his unpopular views from religious ruffians. It does not evince a want of honesty, nor even a lack of moral courage, to flee from a tiger or avoid a skunk.
To do good was Lincoln's religion. To live an honest, manly life—to add to the sum of human happiness—to make the world better for his having lived—this was the aspiration of his life and the essence of his faith.
In youth, the meanest creature found in him a friend, and if need be, a defender. He wrote essays and made speeches against cruelty to animals, and sought to impress upon his playmates' minds the sacredness of life. The same tender regard for the weak and unfortunate characterized his manhood. Whilst riding through a forest once with a party of friends, he saw a brood of young birds on the ground which a storm had blown from their nest. He dismounted from his horse, and after a laborious search, found the nest and placed the birdlings snugly in their little home. When he reached his companions, and was chided by them for his delay, he said: "I could not have slept to-night if I had not given those birds to their mother."
The narration of his many deeds of kindness and mercy while at Washington would fill a volume. He loved to rescue an erring soldier boy from the jaws of death and fill a mother's eyes with tears of joy. He loved to dispel the clouds of sorrow from a wife's sad heart and warm it with the sunshine of happiness. He loved to take the child of poverty upon his knee and plant within its little breast the seeds of confidence and hope.
A giant in stature, and a lion in strength and courage, he possessed the gentleness of a child and the tenderness of a woman. The sufferings, even of a stranger, would fill his eyes with tears, and the death of a friend would overwhelm him. In his tenth year his mother died, and for a time his heart was desolate and he could not be consoled. In his fifteenth year his only sister, a lovely, fragile flower, just blooming into womanhood, drooped and died, and life seemed purposeless to him again. Of his four children, two died while he was living—Eddie, a fair-haired babe, and his beloved Willie. When death took these his sorrow was unutterable. The untimely death of his young friend, the gallant Colonel Ellsworth, at Alexandria, and the death of his life-long friend, the lamented Edwin F. Baker, at Ball's Bluff, were blows that staggered him. At the death of his good friend, Bowlin Green, he was chosen to deliver a funeral address. When the hour arrived, and he stepped forward to perform the sacred task, his eyes fell upon the coffin of his dead friend and for a time he stood transfixed—helpless and speechless. The only tribute he could pay was the tribute of his tears. When he turned for the last time from the bedside of the beautiful Ann Rut-ledge, his betrothed, it was with a broken heart and a mind dethroned. "Oh! I can never be reconciled to have the snow, the rain, and the storm beat upon her grave," was the pitiful burden of his plaint for weeks. Reason after a time returned, but his wonted gladness never; and down through all those eventful years to that fatal April night when his own sweet life-blood slowly oozed away, beneath that sparkling surface of feigned mirth, drifted the memory and the agonies of that great grief.
In the social relations of life, he was a most exemplary man. He was a devoted husband, an indulgent father, an obliging neighbor, and a faithful friend. Mrs. Colonel Chapman, a lady who lived for a time in his family, pays this tribute to his private life: "He was all that a husband, father, and neighbor should be, kind and affectionate to his wife and child, and very pleasant to all around him. Never did I hear him utter an unkind word." "His devotion to wife and children," says George W. Julian, "was as abiding and unbounded as his love of country." The strong attachment always manifested by him for his friends has often been remarked. Rich and poor, great and humble, all were equally dear to him and alike the recipients of his regard and love. The prince he treated like a man, the humblest man he treated like a prince. Nothing in his career exhibits the greatness and nobleness of his character in a loftier degree than the cordial and unaffected manner in which, at Washington, in the midst of wealth, and splendor, and refinement, he was accustomed to receive and entertain the plain, uncultured friends of other days.
Upon his rugged honesty, I need not dwell. The sobriquet of "Honest Abe" was early won by him and never lost. In his profession—a profession in which, too often, cunning and deceit, falsehood and dishonesty, are the means, and robbery the end—a profession in which, too often, Injustice is a purpled Dives sitting at a bounteous board, and Justice, a ragged Lazarus lying at the gate—he never wavered in his loyalty to truth, to justice, and to honesty. Engaged in a just cause, he was one of the most powerful advocates that ever addressed a judge or jury; engaged in an unjust cause, he was the weakest member of his bar. In fact, he could not be induced to plead a cause in which he did not see some element of justice, even though the technicalities of law insured success. To one who had sought his services and had stated his case, he replied: "Yes, I can win it; but there are some things legally right that are not morally right; this is one: I cannot take your case." He was once employed to defend a person accused of murder. As the trial progressed, it became apparent to him that his client had done the deed. Turning to his associate counsel, with a look of disappointment and pain, he said: "Swett, the man is guilty; you defend him; I cannot." On another occasion, when he discovered that his client had grossly imposed upon his confidence and instituted an unjust suit, he left the court-room, and when the bailiff called for him, he answered: "Tell Judge Treat that I can't come; I have to wash my hands."
He was the most magnanimous of men. William H. Seward, his chief opponent for the Presidential nomination, he made the Premier of his Cabinet. Secretary Chase became his political, if not his personal, enemy. Yet, recognizing his fitness for the place, he waived all personal grievances and appointed him to the exalted position of Chief Justice of the United States, the highest gift within the power of a President to bestow. During his professional career he was sent to Cincinnati to assist Edwin M. Stanton in an important legal case. The grim Stanton had never met this plain, Western lawyer before, and displeased at his uncouth appearance, and apparent lack of ability, treated him so discourteously that Lincoln's self-respect compelled him to practically withdraw from the case. It was a brutal affront, too poignant for him ever to forget, but not to forgive, and linked together on one of the most momentous pages of history stand the names of Lincoln and Stanton, an enduring witness to his sublime magnanimity.
The murder of this loving savior of our Union was a disastrous blow, not to the victorious North alone, but to the vanquished South as well. Could he have lived, the balm of his great, kindly nature would have quickly healed the nation's wounds. At the commencement of the conflict, in pleading tones, he said: "We are not enemies, but friends." And at its close, notwithstanding all the cruel, bitter anguish he had endured during those four long years of fratricidal strife, "With malice toward none, with charity for all," he died, and many a brave Confederate deplored