Showing posts with label Abraham Lincoln Debates. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Abraham Lincoln Debates. Show all posts

Saturday, March 21, 2026

Lincoln’s "House Divided" Remix: Why the Chicago Version Actually Matters More


Chicago Press and Tribune article
July 10, 1858

The night before Abraham Lincoln spoke in Chicago, Senator Stephen Douglas stood on the balcony of the Tremont House and spent nearly two hours tearing Lincoln apart. He told the crowd that Lincoln’s “House Divided” line was nothing less than a prediction of “war between the North and South.” Newspapers loved it. The crowd roared. Chicago went to bed buzzing. [1]

The next evening, Lincoln stepped onto that same balcony.

At first, he didn’t look like the man who had dropped the Springfield thunderbolt. One eyewitness, Abram E. Smith, a printer for the Chicago Daily Journal, remembered that Lincoln spoke “with hesitation… as one unused to speaking,” even seeming to feel “his own inferiority in culture and rank” compared to Douglas. [1]

But then something shifted — the same shift Smith would later see in the debates.

Lincoln reached the part Douglas had twisted, paused, and said:

“I am quoting from my speech…” “I do not expect the house to fall.” [3]

It was the beginning of a remix — not a rewrite, not a retreat, but a line‑by‑line reclaiming of his own words. And by the end of the speech, Smith said Lincoln had “lost his diffidence,” made “strong assaults on Douglas,” and proved himself “a grand able man.” [1]

Chicago wasn’t the polished performance. It was the rehearsal where he learned how his forensic approach needed to change for his upcoming debates with Douglas. [*]

🧾 The Receipts: Tracking His Rhetorical Remix

June 16, 1858 — Springfield

“I believe it [agitation] will not cease until a crisis shall have been reached and passed. A house divided against itself cannot stand. I believe this government cannot endure permanently half slave and half free. I do not expect the Union to be dissolved, I do not expect the house to fall, but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will become all one thing or the other." (The Warning) [2]

July 10, 1858 — Chicago

Douglas had spoken from the same Tremont House balcony the night before, turning Lincoln’s Springfield paragraph into a prophecy of civil war. So when Lincoln stepped onto that same balcony, he did something unusual: he performed a kind of rhetorical autopsy on his own words.

“Judge Douglas made two points upon my recent speech at Springfield… The first one of these points he bases upon the language in a speech which I delivered at Springfield, which I believe I can quite correctly quote from memory.” [3] (The Pivot — the Remix)

He then re‑quoted the entire House Divided passage and walked the crowd through it line by line — a Strategic Clarification forced by Douglas’s distortions.

Here’s how Lincoln dismantled Douglas’s attacks:

1. The “I Never Said That” Defense

Lincoln reminds the crowd that his Springfield line was "a prediction only", not a policy. [3]

He wasn’t calling for war; he was forecasting the direction of national politics.

2. The “Heresy” Charge

Douglas accused him of wanting a national “uniformity” — forcing every state to adopt identical laws. Lincoln exposes the absurdity:

"I suppose it is meant if we raise corn here, we must make sugar cane grow here too, and we must make those which grow North, grow in the South...Now, so much for all this nonsense – or I must call it so." [3]

3. That Pivotal Moment

Then comes the pivot — the moment the Chicago Lincoln stops defending and starts attacking.

He admits he didn’t explicitly call for the “ultimate extinction” of slavery in his Springfield speech but then adds:

“I do say so now, however.” (Great applause.) [3]

Douglas wanted to paint him as a radical? Lincoln essentially says: Fine. Put this in the record.

πŸ•΅️‍♂️ Why Chicago Lincoln Feels Off‑Balance

You’re right to sense it — and historians see it too. Chicago Lincoln is the Lincoln caught in the middle of becoming himself.

The Tremont Effect

Douglas had spoken from the same balcony the night before. Lincoln was literally stepping into his rival’s echo chamber.

The Burden of Proof

In Springfield, Lincoln set the agenda. In Chicago, he was answering Douglas’s agenda — and in politics, explaining always feels like retreat.

The Audience

Chicago was a Republican city, but a pragmatic one. Merchants and businessmen feared war. Lincoln had to prove he wasn’t the arsonist Douglas claimed he was.

The Pattern

Abram E. Smith’s account reveals something crucial: Lincoln’s Chicago arc — hesitant start, confident finish — is the prototype of his debate persona.

Chicago is where the debate‑stage Lincoln is born.

πŸŽ›️ The Historian’s "Deep Cut"

The Chicago speech isn’t a remix because Lincoln was bored. It’s a remix because his Springfield speech was too good — so sharp it was cutting him.

House Divided was the high‑concept pitch. Chicago was the legal brief.

And when Lincoln said, “I do say so now, however,” he fused moral conviction with strategic necessity — turning a moment of off‑balance retreat into the first step toward the rhetorical mastery he would display in the debates.

Chicago is the hinge. Chicago is the training camp. Chicago is the moment Lincoln realizes the fight will be bigger — and more brutal — than he imagined.

Chicago is the moment where Lincoln realizes he must not remix his message, but his method.

🎀 The "Mic‑Drop" Conclusion

History remembers the shock of Abraham Lincoln’s “House Divided” speech and the brilliance of the debates. But Chicago is the missing chapter — the night Lincoln stepped onto Douglas’s balcony, started slow, found his footing, reclaimed his words, and discovered the strategy he would use to defeat Douglas in the debate arena that followed.

It’s not the polished performance. It’s the rehearsal where he realizes what the performance must become.

That’s why his Chicago speech matters more.

From the archives of Abraham Lincoln. Storyteller.

Mac

[*] FYI: The Chicago speech is a pre‑debate framing address — it sets up the arguments Lincoln carries into the debates. His “House Divided” clarification is directly tied to the controversy that shaped them. Scholars routinely group these speeches together as part of his 1858 campaign corpus.

πŸ“š Works Cited

[1] The Lehrman Institute Presents. "Abraham Lincoln's Classroom: Abraham Lincoln and Chicago". Retrieved March 10, 2026.

[2] Lincoln, Abraham. “Speech at Springfield, Illinois.” In The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, edited by Roy P. Basler, 2:461–469. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953.

[3] Lincoln, Abraham. “Speech at Chicago, Illinois.” In The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, edited by Roy P. Basler, 2:499–510. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1953.




Sunday, September 28, 2025

Abe Lincoln the Dialectic: A Mind Forged in Contradiction,


Abraham Lincoln was mocked as a “Man of the West”—a backwoods specimen with homespun clothes, unkempt hair, and slow wits. One observer in New Salem called him “a rather singular grotesque appearance”; another described him as “as ruff [sic] a specimen of humanity as could be found.” [1]

And yet, behind that rough exterior was one of the sharpest minds in American political history.

One of Abraham Lincoln’s legal contemporaries, Henry Clay Whitney, wrote in his 1908 biography:

"Those who read Mr. Lincoln's speeches will find some of the most brilliant exhibitions of dialectics in political literature in his untangling of the knotted threads of Douglas's fallacious and involved [debate] statements, made with a view and animus to embarrass and confuse." [2]

This is more than praise—it’s a diagnosis. Whitney doesn’t just admire Lincoln’s rhetoric; he identifies the core of Lincoln’s intellectual power: a dialectical mind. Not merely the ability to argue, but the ability to see, dissect, and reconstruct complex moral and political issues with clarity and force.

πŸ“– What “Dialectic” Means in This Context

At its core, dialectic is the process of resolving contradictions through reasoned argument—thesis, antithesis, synthesis. It’s not just debate; it’s evolution through tension.

Lincoln lived dialectically. He didn’t just argue with others—he argued with himself, with the nation, with the moment. He constantly held competing ideas in tension:

  • Union vs. Emancipation He began the war to preserve the Union, but came to see that the Union could not be preserved without ending slavery.

  • Law vs. Morality He respected constitutional limits, yet stretched executive power to meet moral imperatives.

  • Humility vs. Ambition He downplayed his own greatness, yet pursued mastery with obsessive drive.

  • Logic vs. Emotion His speeches fused cold reason with deep feeling—think of the Gettysburg Address or Second Inaugural.

Lincoln didn’t resolve these tensions by choosing one side. He synthesized them. That’s dialectic—not merely the ability to argue, but the ability to see, dissect, and reconstruct complex moral and political issues with clarity and force. Let's look at the Lincoln-Douglas Debates.

⚔️ Lincoln vs. Douglas: Dismantling the Framework

In the 1858 debates with Stephen Douglas, Lincoln didn’t merely oppose a rival—he dismantled a worldview. Douglas tried to blur the moral lines of slavery with legal technicalities and the doctrine of “popular sovereignty.” Lincoln responded not with slogans, but with structure. He isolated the core contradiction: that a nation founded on liberty could not endure half slave and half free. Then, with surgical precision, he exposed Douglas’s evasions—his conflation of local choice with national principle, his attempt to paint Lincoln as a radical rather than a realist. Lincoln didn’t just refute Douglas. He redefined the terms of the debate. Here's an example. [3]

πŸ—£️ The First Debate at Ottawa, IL (August 21, 1858)

Douglas opened with a barrage of mischaracterizations—accusing Lincoln of favoring racial equality, outright abolition, and uniform social standards across the country. Lincoln’s response was a masterclass in dialectical clarity. He untangled Douglas’s false equivalencies, reframed the issue around the extension of slavery—not its immediate abolition—and refused to be baited into extremes. He didn’t just defend his position; he exposed the internal contradictions in Douglas’s. Lincoln’s logic was not reactive—it was reconstructive.

Lincoln’s dialectical skill wasn’t confined to the campaign trail. As the war escalated, he carried that same intellectual discipline into the moral battlefield—most powerfully in the address he delivered at Gettysburg.

πŸ“ The Gettysburg Address (1863)

At just 271 words, Lincoln reframed the entire meaning of the Civil War. He didn’t glorify the battle. He didn’t demonize the enemy. Instead, he held two truths in tension:

  • The war was a test of whether a nation “conceived in liberty” could endure.

  • The dead had consecrated the ground more than any speech ever could.

Lincoln’s dialectic here is subtle but profound: suffering vs. purpose, death vs. rebirth, past vs. future. He doesn’t resolve these tensions with certainty—he resolves them with vision:

“…that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom…” [3]

He doesn’t say the war has redeemed the nation. He says it might—if the living rise to the challenge. That’s dialectic: a synthesis born from contradiction.

By the time of his Second Inaugural, Lincoln’s dialectic had deepened. No longer just parsing political contradictions, he was now confronting the spiritual paradoxes of a nation at war with itself.

πŸ“ The Second Inaugural Address (1865)

Delivered just weeks before the war’s end, this speech is Lincoln at his most dialectical—and most haunting.

He acknowledges both sides prayed to the same God. Both read the same Bible. Both believed they were right. And yet:

“The prayers of both could not be answered. That of neither has been answered fully.”[3]

This isn’t triumphalism. It’s moral reckoning. Lincoln doesn’t claim divine favor. He claims divine mystery. And then he offers a synthesis—not of ideology, but of ethics:

“With malice toward none, with charity for all…” [3]

He doesn’t demand vengeance. He demands healing. That’s dialectic: holding justice and mercy in the same breath.

πŸ” Why Understanding 'Dialectic' Matters

Lincoln’s greatness wasn’t just in what he said—it was in how he thought. His dialectical mind allowed him to navigate political, social, and moral contradictions without collapsing into confusion or dogma. He didn’t resolve national tensions by simply choosing sides. He resolved them by elevating the contradictions—clarifying them, reframing them, and making them comprehensible. That’s why his words endure. They weren’t just persuasive. They were transformative. They weren’t just for his time. They were built for ours.

🧩 Summary: Lincoln the Dialectic

Lincoln’s mind was forged in contradiction. From the courtroom to the campaign trail, from the battlefield to the Bible, he held opposing truths in tension—and synthesized them into clarity. Whether dismantling Douglas’s evasions in Ottawa, reframing the meaning of sacrifice at Gettysburg, or confronting divine mystery in his Second Inaugural, Lincoln didn’t just argue. He evolved. His dialectical method wasn’t academic—it was existential. It shaped his leadership, his rhetoric, and ultimately, the nation itself.

It’s not a nickname like “The Great Emancipator”. It’s a lens. A way of seeing him not as a fixed figure, but as a dynamic force.

Clarity forged from contradiction—another insight from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 Enjoy this mind-bender? Here is one that that will have you grabbing a pen to try. [Read: "'Bass-Ackwards' - An Abe Lincoln spoonerism story" ]

πŸ“š Works Cited

[1] Thomas, Benjamin P. (1934) Lincoln’s New Salem. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press.

[2] Whitney, Henry Clay (1908) Life of Lincoln. Edited by Wayne Whipple, Philadelphia, PA: J.B. Lippincott Company.

[3] Lincoln, Abraham (1953) The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, Volumes 1-9, ed. Roy P. Basler (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press). All of the speech excerpts were taken from this work in the order shown below.
  1. Lincoln-Douglas Debates. First Debate at Ottawa, August 21, 1858.

  2. Lincoln, Abraham. Gettysburg Address, November 19, 1863.

  3. Lincoln, Abraham. Second Inaugural Address, March 4, 1865.

Friday, September 12, 2025

A 'Promise' to Be Kept: How Abraham Lincoln Viewed The Declaration of Independence

 


“Let us readopt the Declaration of Independence, and with it the practices and policy which harmonize with it.” ~ Cooper Union Address (1860) [1]

That’s not just a profound statement—it’s a goal Abraham Lincoln wrestled to fulfill throughout his presidency. The Declaration of Independence lays out timeless ideals: liberty, equality, government by consent. But whether today’s political and social activities jibe with those ideals—or mock them—is a question best answered through Lincoln’s own words.

Let’s see what he had to say.

πŸ“œ What the Declaration Says

At its core, the Declaration states:

  • All men are created equal
  • They are endowed with certain unalienable rights
  • Governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed
  • People have the right to alter or abolish destructive governments

These principles are not policy—they’re philosophical commitments. And they’ve been invoked by abolitionists, suffragists, civil rights leaders, and yes, even politicians—each claiming to defend or restore those ideals.

πŸ” Lincoln’s Take

Lincoln saw the Declaration as a moral compass—a "promise" to be kept. In his speech at Springfield, Illinois, on July 17, 1858, during his Senate campaign against Stephen Douglas, he said:

“It was not the mere matter of the separation of the colonies from the mother land; but that sentiment in the Declaration of Independence which gave liberty, not alone to the people of this country, but hope to all the world, for all future time. It was that which gave promise that in due time the weights should be lifted from the shoulders of all men…” [1]

He believed the Declaration was a standard toward which to strive , not a description of reality. It was not a completed achievement, but a moral commitment that must be fulfilled over time.

He continued in that same speech:

“This is a world of compensations; and he who would be no slave, must consent to have no slave. Those who deny freedom to others deserve it not for themselves; and, under a just God, cannot long retain it.” [1]

This idea recurs in his later speeches—most famously in the Gettysburg Address, where he speaks of the nation being “dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” That phrase, lifted directly from the Declaration, became the moral center of Lincoln’s wartime vision.

πŸ“… Today’s Activities: Jibe or Mock?

Some would argue:

Jibe: When laws expand rights, protect speech, or ensure equal access, they honor the Declaration.

Mock: When power is abused, rights are denied, or truth is manipulated, they betray its spirit.

But through the Lincolnian lens: The Declaration is not a relic—it’s a challenge. Every generation must decide for itself whether it’s living up to the promise or falling short. 

πŸ—½Conclusion

Lincoln didn’t treat the Declaration as a museum piece. He treated it as a living document—a moral North Star. In a time when political discourse often feels unmoored, returning to Lincoln’s framing reminds us: The "promise" of liberty and equality is not self-executing. It must be renewed, defended, lived—and above all, kept.

That’s not just history. 

That’s the American way.

This was another topic from the archives of Abraham Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

🎩 To Lincoln, the principles of the Declaration weren’t just lofty ideals—they were worth fighting for. He once dropped through a trap door to stop a mob bent on shutting down a political speech. [Read: The Trap Door Rescue: Abraham Lincoln and the Fight for Free Speech.]

🀠 Ever heard the frontier tale where a man loses a bet by shouting “Izzard by G—d!” in a frontier spelling contest? This is a lost Davy Crockett story—preserved only in a letter to Abraham Lincoln. Humor, history, and a forgotten alphabet quirk collide in one of the strangest gems tucked inside the Lincoln Papers at the Library of Congress. πŸ‘‰ Read the full tale here.

πŸ“š Works Cited

[1] Lincoln, Abraham. The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Vols. 2 and 3, edited by Roy P. Basler et al., Rutgers University Press, 1953, Vol. 2, pp. 499–500 and Vol. 3, pp. 547-556.


Wednesday, July 10, 2024

When '2 and 2 do NOT make 4': Abe Lincoln and The Art of Debate

 



Millions of viewers watched the 2024 Presidential Debate in June. It was a very poor showing by both people who are running for the Office of the President of the United States. The Republican candidate lied throughout the debate, and the Democratic debater spoke vaguely and appeared lost and confused.

A post about the "art" of debating in the words of one of the most famous Republicans in American history (and a debater himself), Abraham Lincoln, might provide an intriguing retrospective. Although the subject of Lincoln's speech was the expansion of slavery, tucked into the nooks and crannies of it were nuggets of debate strategy, style and warnings.

On Monday, October 16, 1854, then-U.S. Senator Stephen Douglas (D-IL) addressed a large audience at Peoria, Illinois. When he finished, he was cheered; and the band in attendance played a vigorous tune. The crowd then began to call for Abraham Lincoln, who - as Sen. Douglas announced - would answer him.

Lincoln - a practicing, successful attorney in Springfield, Illinois at the time - took the stand and opened with his customary wry humor. While poking fun of himself, Lincoln also revealed a crafty debate strategy - allowing his opponent [Douglas] to speak last:

The Judge has already informed you that he is to have an hour to reply to me. I [don't doubt] you have been a little surprised to learn that I have consented . . .if the Judge was entirely done, you democrats would leave, and not hear me; but by giving him the close, I felt confident you would stay for the fun of hearing him skin me.[1]

As a speaker's strategy, Lincoln regarded the use of disparaging remarks about his opponents as a distraction from the actual subject of the debate.

I wish further to say, that I do not propose to question the patriotism, or to assail the motives of any man, or class of men; but rather to strictly confine myself to the naked merits of the question.[1]

Lincoln also pointed out that when a debater is vague or unclear about any point or position in his argument, it works against him as a candidate:

I wish to MAKE and to KEEP the distinction . . . so clear, that no honest man can misunderstand me, and no dishonest one, successfully misrepresent me.

But when candidates lie about facts or history, to Lincoln, it's a denial of reality:

. . . the Judge's desperate assumption that the Compromises of [1850] had no connection with one another; that Illinois came into the Union as a slave state, and some other similar ones. This is no other than a bold denial of the history of the country. 

In Abraham Lincoln's view, to deny, lie, or misrepresent the factual history of anything by one candidate was to undermine the purpose of a debate in the first place. It destroyed the premise or the assumption of truth that served as the starting point for further reasoning and arguments by the other candidate.

If we do not know that the Compromises of '50 were dependent on each other; if we do not know that Illinois came into the Union as a free state---we do not know any thing. If we do not know these things, we do not know that we ever had a revolutionary war, or such a chief as Washington. To deny these things is to deny our national axioms and it puts an end to all argument. 

Lincoln then gave an very brilliant and succinct example that really resonates in today's political climate:

If a man will stand up and assert, and repeat, and re-assert, that two and two do NOT make four, I know nothing in the power of argument that can stop him.

Lincoln said that if such a candidate stood before him:

I can answer [him] so long as he sticks to the premises; but when he flies from them, I can not work an argument into the consistency of a . . . gag, and actually close his mouth with it. In such a case I can only [leave] him to the [voters].

To create a false picture based on lies, half-truths, and misrepresentation - i.e. rampant crime, failing economy, climate change is a hoax - leaves voters in ignorance of the truth with which to make a fair, rational decision at the ballot box. To Lincoln, political practices like these were a danger to the citizens themselves, to a representative democracy and to our country.

As it turns out, he was right.

Six years later, the South seceded, and the Union was broken asunder.

What will happen this time?

This was another anecdote about Abe Lincoln, Storyteller.

Mac

Works Cited

1. Lincoln, Abraham. Speech at Peoria, Illinois, October 16, 1854. Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. Volume 2. pp. 248,283.

JUMP TO SECTION 

Friday, March 26, 2021

Lincoln's Eel Story: Wit and Wisdom in the 1858 Lincoln-Douglas Debates

 

Lincoln Douglas Debate of 1858 Statue
by sculptor Lily Tolpo
Dedicated on August 27, 1992,
the 134th anniversary of the debate.

Spreading false information or creating misinformation in a political campaign is nothing new. Abraham Lincoln faced the same issues during his time. However, Lincoln had a keen understanding of human nature. He often countered such tactics with biting ridicule thinly disguised as a witty anecdote and or a famous quote to make the perpetrators appear foolish to the voters.

This practice is evident during his fifth debate with Stephen Douglas in their famous "Great Debates" for a U.S. Senate seat in 1858. 

That day in Galesburg, Illinois, Senator Douglas spoke first. At one point in his presentation, Douglas, in an attempt to falsely portray Lincoln as an "extreme abolitionist", read a set of resolutions supposedly passed four years previously in 1854 by a convention held in Springfield against the admission of Nebraska as a slave state. These so-called "resolutions" were published in a Springfield newspaper a few days after the convention.

When it was Lincoln's turn to respond, Lincoln agreed that the resolutions read by Douglas were, indeed, the same ones published back in October 1854. But then Lincoln charged that the resolutions were not the ones actually passed by the Anti-Nebraska convention [*] at that time, and that Douglas - along with the editor of the newspaper, Charles Lanphier and another man named Thomas Harris - were part of this "forgery".

Lincoln was scrupulously honest - an unusual virtue for a politician then (or now). So rather than just blatantly accuse Douglas of writing this fake news and leave it at that, Lincoln actually built a "case" for his charge.  

The idea that it was done by mistake, is absurd. The article . . . contains part of the real proceedings of that Springfield Convention, showing that the writer of the article had the real proceedings before him, and purposely threw out the genuine resolutions passed by the Convention, and fraudulently substituted the others . . . The main object of that forgery at that time was to beat [Richard] Yates and elect Harris to Congress, and that object was known to be exceedingly dear to Judge Douglas at that time. [1]

Lincoln then accused the men of using the forgery more than once, but in doing so, he made them the butt of a memorable joke: 

"The fraud having been apparently successful upon the occasion, both Harris and Douglas have more than once since then been attempting to put it to new uses. As the fisherman's wife, whose drowned husband was brought home with his clothing full of eels [a delicacy at the time], said when they asked her, 
"What is to be done with him?" 

"Take the eels and set him out again." 

So Harris and Douglas have shown a disposition to take the 'eels' out of that stale fraud by which they gained Harris' election [to Congress], and 'set' the fraud again - more than once. 

Lincoln then concluded his "case" to the audience with this wry adaptation of Mark Antony's speech in Shakespeare's play, Julius Caesar: 

"But meanwhile the three are agreed that each is 'a most honorable man'.'' 

Lincoln labeled the use of lies and false information as fraud and forgery, explaining how such tactics are used to mislead and manipulate people. However, it was his clever tale, laced with an obvious Shakespearean quote, that not only entertained the audience but also underscored the character of candidates who sacrifice the importance of truth and integrity in public discourse.

No wonder Douglas hated to hear Lincoln tell a story.

This was another tale from Abe Lincoln, storyteller.

Mac


Works Cited

[*] Just as a historical FYI: The "Anti-Nebraska" convention held in Springfield in 1854 was one of many locally organized "anti-Nebraska" meetings across the United States. Supporters included members from the many political factions at the time - Free Soil Party, Conscience Whigs, and anti-slavery-extension Democrats. These diverse political views converged on the single issue of opposing the Kansas-Nebraska Act. The Act - narrowly passed by Congress and signed into law by President Franklin Pierce - opened the Kansas and Nebraska Territories to slavery and future admission as slave states if the people living in those territories voted for slave clause to be added to their state constitution. By its enactment the new law nullified the prohibition of slavery in any territory north of  36° 30′ latitude, set by the Missouri Compromise of 1850.

It was from these conventions in 1854 that the Republican Party finally emerged.

[1] Basler, Roy P., et al. (1954) "Fifth Debate with Stephen A. Douglas, at Galesburg, Illinois - October 7, 1858". Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln. v.3: p.229.