Lyceum Address
homeThe Perpetuation of Our Political Institutions: Address Before the Young Men's Lyceum of Springfield, Illinois January 27, 1838
As one of Lincoln's earliest published speeches, this address has been
much scrutinized and debated by historians, who see broad
implications for his later public policies. It's a remarkable effort
considering that Lincoln was 28, had just a year or so of formal
education, and several months before had moved from a rough
pioneer village to Springfield.
William Herndon, Lincoln's last law partner, describes the event this
way: "we had a society in Springfield, which contained and
commanded all the culture and talent of the place. Unlike the other
one its meetings were public, and reflected great credit on the
community...The speech was brought out by the burning in St. Louis
a few weeks before, by a mob, of a negro. Lincoln took this incident
as a sort of text for his remarks...The address was published in the
Sangamon Journal and created for the young orator a reputation
which soon extended beyond the limits of the locality in which he
lived."
By Abraham Lincoln
As a subject for the remarks of the evening, the perpetuation of
our political institutions, is selected.
In the great journal of things happening under the sun, we, the
American People, find our account running, under date of the
nineteenth century of the Christian era.--We find ourselves in the
peaceful possession, of the fairest portion of the earth, as regards
extent of territory, fertility of soil, and salubrity of climate. We find
ourselves under the government of a system of political
institutions, conducing more essentially to the ends of civil and
religious liberty, than any of which the history of former times tells us.
We, when mounting the stage of existence, found ourselves the
legal inheritors of these fundamental blessings. We toiled not in
the acquirement or establishment of them--they are a legacy
bequeathed us, by a once hardy, brave, and patriotic, but now
lamented and departed race of ancestors. Their's was the task
(and nobly they performed it) to possess themselves, and through
themselves, us, of this goodly land; and to uprear upon its hills and
its valleys, a political edifice of liberty and equal rights; 'tis ours
only, to transmit these, the former, unprofaned by the foot of an
invader; the latter, undecayed by the lapse of time and untorn by
usurpation, to the latest generation that fate shall permit the world
to know. This task gratitude to our fathers, justice to ourselves,
duty to posterity, and love for our species in general, all
imperatively require us faithfully to perform.
How then shall we perform it?--At what point shall we expect the
approach of danger? By what means shall we fortify against it?--
Shall we expect some transatlantic military giant, to step the
Ocean, and crush us at a blow? Never!--All the armies of Europe,
Asia and Africa combined, with all the treasure of the earth (our
own excepted) in their military chest; with a Bonaparte for a
commander, could not by force, take a drink from the Ohio, or
make a track on the Blue Ridge, in a trial of a thousand years.
At what point then is the approach of danger to be expected? I
answer, if it ever reach us, it must spring up amongst us. It cannot
come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we must ourselves be
its author and finisher. As a nation of freemen, we must live
through all time, or die by suicide.
I hope I am over wary; but if I am not, there is, even now,
something of ill-omen, amongst us. I mean the increasing disregard
for law which pervades the country; the growing disposition to
substitute the wild and furious passions, in lieu of the sober
judgment of Courts; and the worse than savage mobs, for the
executive ministers of justice. This disposition is awfully fearful in
any community; and that it now exists in ours, though grating to
our feelings to admit, it would be a violation of truth, and an insult
to our intelligence, to deny. Accounts of outrages committed
by mobs, form the every-day news of the times. They have
pervaded the country, from New England to Louisiana;- they
are neither peculiar to the eternal snows
of the former, nor the burning suns of
the latter;--they are not the creature of climate-- neither are they
confined to the slave-holding, or the non-slave- holding States.
Alike, they spring up among the pleasure hunting masters of
Southern slaves, and the order loving citizens of the land of steady
habits.--Whatever, then, their cause may be, it is common to the
whole country.
It would be tedious, as well as useless, to recount the horrors of all
of them. Those happening in the State of Mississippi, and at St.
Louis, are, perhaps, the most dangerous in example and revolting
to humanity. In the Mississippi case, they first commenced by
hanging the regular gamblers; a set of men, certainly not following
for a livelihood, a very useful, or very honest occupation; but one
which, so far from being forbidden by the laws, was actually
licensed by an act of the Legislature, passed but a single year
before. Next, negroes, suspected of conspiring to raise an
insurrection, were caught up and hanged in all parts of the State:
then, white men, supposed to be leagued with the negroes; and
finally, strangers, from neighboring States, going thither on
business, were, in many instances subjected to the same fate. Thus
went on this process of hanging, from gamblers to negroes, from
negroes to white citizens, and from these to strangers; till, dead
men were seen literally dangling from the boughs of trees upon
every road side; and in numbers almost sufficient, to rival the
native Spanish moss of the country, as a drapery of the forest.
Turn, then, to that horror-striking scene at St. Louis. A single
victim was only sacrificed there. His story is very short; and is,
perhaps, the most highly tragic, if anything of its length, that has
ever been witnessed in real life. A mulatto man, by the name of
McIntosh, was seized in the street, dragged to the suburbs of the
city, chained to a tree, and actually burned to death; and all within
a single hour from the time he had been a freeman, attending to his
own business, and at peace with the world.
Such are the effects of mob law; and such as the scenes, becoming
more and more frequent in this land so lately famed for love of law
and order; and the stories of which, have even now grown too
familiar, to attract any thing more, than an idle remark.
But you are, perhaps, ready to ask, "What has this to do with the
perpetuation of our political institutions?" I answer, it has much to
do with it. Its direct consequences are, comparatively speaking,
but a small evil; and much of its danger consists, in the proneness
of our minds, to regard its direct, as its only consequences.
Abstractly considered, the hanging of the gamblers at Vicksburg,
was of but little consequence. They constitute a portion of
population, that is worse than useless in any community; and their
death, if no pernicious example be set by it, is never matter of
reasonable regret with any one. If they were annually swept, from
the stage of existence, by the plague or small pox, honest men
would, perhaps, be much profited, by the operation.--Similar too, is
the correct reasoning, in regard to the burning of the negro at St.
Louis. He had forfeited his life, by the perpetuation of an
outrageous murder, upon one of the most worthy and respectable
citizens of the city; and had not he died as he did, he must have
died by the sentence of the law, in a very short time afterwards. As
to him alone, it was as well the way it was, as it could otherwise
have been.--But the example in either case, was fearful.--When
men take it in their heads to day, to hang gamblers, or burn
murderers, they should recollect, that, in the confusion usually
attending such transactions, they will be as likely to hang or burn
some one who is neither a gambler nor a murderer as one who is;
and that, acting upon the example they set, the mob of to-morrow,
may, and probably will, hang or burn some of them by the very
same mistake. And not only so; the innocent, those who have ever
set their faces against violations of law in every shape, alike with
the guilty, fall victims to the ravages of mob law; and thus it goes
on, step by step, till all the walls erected for the defense of the
persons and property of individuals, are trodden down, and
disregarded. But all this even, is not the full extent of the evil.--By
such examples, by instances of the perpetrators of such acts going
unpunished, the lawless in spirit, are encouraged to become
lawless in practice; and having been used to no restraint, but dread
of punishment, they thus become, absolutely unrestrained.--Having
ever regarded Government as their deadliest bane, they make a
jubilee of the suspension of its operations; and pray for nothing so
much, as its total annihilation. While, on the other hand, good men,
men who love tranquility, who desire to abide by the laws, and
enjoy their benefits, who would gladly spill their blood in the
defense of their country; seeing their property destroyed; their
families insulted, and their lives endangered; their persons injured;
and seeing nothing in prospect that forebodes a change for
better; become tired of, and disgusted with, a Government that
offers them no protection; and are not much averse to a change in
which they imagine they have nothing to lose. Thus, then, by the
operation of this mobocractic spirit, which all must admit, is now
abroad in the land, the strongest bulwark of any Government, and
particularly of those constituted like ours, may effectually be
broken down and destroyed--I mean the attachment of the People.
Whenever this effect shall be produced among us; whenever the
vicious portion of population shall be permitted to gather in bands
of hundreds and thousands, and burn churches, ravage and rob
provision-stores, throw printing presses into rivers, shoot editors,
and hang and burn obnoxious persons at pleasure, and with
impunity; depend on it, this Government cannot last. By such
things, the feelings of the best citizens will become more or less
alienated from it; and thus it will be left without friends, or with too
few, and those few too weak, to make their friendship effectual. At
such a time and under such circumstances, men of sufficient talent
and ambition will not be wanting to seize the opportunity, strike the
blow, and overturn that fair fabric, which for the last half century,
has been the fondest hope, of the lovers of freedom, throughout
the world.
I know the American People are much attached to their
Government;--I know they would suffer much for its sake;--I know
they would endure evils long and patiently, before they would ever
think of exchanging it for another. Yet, notwithstanding all this, if
the laws be continually despised and disregarded, if their rights to
be secure in their persons and property, are held by no better
tenure than the caprice of a mob, the alienation of their affections
from the Government is the natural consequence; and to that,
sooner or later, it must come.
Here then, is one point at which danger may be expected.
The question recurs, "how shall we fortify against it?" The answer
is simple. Let every American, every lover of liberty, every well
wisher to his posterity, swear by the blood of the Revolution, never
to violate in the least particular, the laws of the country; and never
to tolerate their violation by others. As the patriots of seventy-six
did to the support of the Declaration of Independence, so to the
support of the Constitution and Laws, let every American pledge
his life, his property, and his sacred honor;--let every man
remember that to violate the law, is to trample on the blood of his
father, and to tear the character of his own, and his children's
liberty. Let reverence for the laws, be breathed by every American
mother, to the lisping babe, that prattles on her lap--let it be taught
in schools, in seminaries, and in colleges; let it be written in
Primers, spelling books, and in Almanacs;--let it be preached from
the pulpit, proclaimed in legislative halls, and enforced in courts of
justice. And, in short, let it become the political religion of the
nation; and let the old and the young, the rich and the poor, the
grave and the gay, of all sexes and tongues, and colors and
conditions, sacrifice unceasingly upon its altars.
While ever a state of feeling, such as this, shall universally, or
even, very generally prevail throughout the nation, vain will be
every effort, and fruitless every attempt, to subvert our national
freedom.
When I so pressingly urge a strict observance of all the laws, let
me not be understood as saying there are no bad laws, nor that
grievances may not arise, for the redress of which, no legal
provisions have been made.--I mean to say no such thing. But I do
mean to say, that, although bad laws, if they exist, should be
repealed as soon as possible, still while they continue in force, for
the sake of example, they should be religiously observed. So also
in unprovided cases. If such arise, let proper legal provisions be
made for them with the least possible delay; but, till then, let them,
if not too intolerable, be borne with.
There is no grievance that is a fit object of redress by mob law. In
any case that arises, as for instance, the promulgation of
abolitionism, one of two positions is necessarily true; that is, the
thing is right within itself, and therefore deserves the protection of
all law and all good citizens; or, it is wrong, and therefore proper to
be prohibited by legal enactments; and in neither case, is the
interposition of mob law, either necessary, justifiable, or
excusable.
But, it may be asked, why suppose danger to our political
institutions? Have we not preserved them for more than fifty
years? And why may we not for fifty times as long?
We hope there is no sufficient reason. We hope all dangers may
be overcome; but to conclude that no danger may ever arise, would
itself be extremely dangerous. There are now, and will hereafter
be, many causes, dangerous in their tendency, which have not
existed heretofore; and which are not too insignificant to merit
attention. That our government should have been maintained in its
original form from its establishment until now, is not much to be
wondered at. It had many props to support it through that period,
which now are decayed, and crumbled away. Through that period, it
was felt by all, to be an undecided experiment; now, it is
understood to be a successful one.--Then, all that sought celebrity
and fame, and distinction, expected to find them in the success of
that experiment. Their all was staked upon it:-- their destiny was
inseparably linked with it. Their ambition aspired to display before
an admiring world, a practical demonstration of the truth of a
proposition, which had hitherto been considered, at best no better,
than problematical; namely, the capability of a people to govern
themselves. If they succeeded, they were to be immortalized; their
names were to be transferred to counties and cities, and rivers and
mountains; and to be revered and sung, and toasted through all
time. If they failed, they were to be called knaves and fools, and
fanatics for a fleeting hour; then to sink and be forgotten. They
succeeded. The experiment is successful; and thousands have won
their deathless names in making it so. But the game is caught; and
I believe it is true, that with the catching, end the pleasures of the
chase. This field of glory is harvested, and the crop is already
appropriated. But new reapers will arise, and they, too, will
seek a field.
It is to deny, what the history of the world tells us is true
to suppose that men of ambition and talents will not continue
to spring up amongst us.
And, when they do, they will as naturally seek the
gratification of their ruling passion, as others have so done before
them. The question then, is, can that gratification be found in
supporting and maintaining an edifice that has been erected by
others? Most certainly it cannot. Many great and good men
sufficiently qualified for any task they should undertake, may ever
be found, whose ambition would inspire to nothing beyond a seat in
Congress, a gubernatorial or a presidential chair; but such belong
not to the family of the lion, or the tribe of the eagle. What! think
you these places would satisfy an Alexander, a Caesar, or a
Napoleon?--Never! Towering genius distains a beaten path. It
seeks regions hitherto unexplored.--It sees no distinction in
adding story to story, upon the monuments of fame, erected to the
memory of others. It denies that it is glory enough to serve under
any chief. It scorns to tread in the footsteps of any predecessor,
however illustrious. It thirsts and burns for distinction; and, if
possible, it will have it, whether at the expense of emancipating
slaves, or enslaving freemen. Is it unreasonable then to expect,
that some man possessed of the loftiest genius, coupled with
ambition sufficient to push it to its utmost stretch, will at some
time, spring up among us? And when such a one does, it will
require the people to be united with each other, attached to the
government and laws, and generally intelligent, to successfully
frustrate his designs.
Distinction will be his paramount object, and although he would as
willingly, perhaps more so, acquire it by doing good as harm; yet,
that opportunity being past, and nothing left to be done in the way
of building up, he would set boldly to the task of pulling down.
Here, then, is a probable case, highly dangerous, and such a one as
could not have well existed heretofore.
Another reason which once was; but which, to the same extent, is
now no more, has done much in maintaining our institutions thus
far. I mean the powerful influence which the interesting scenes of
the revolution had upon the passions of the people as distinguished
from their judgment. By this influence, the jealousy, envy, and
avarice, incident to our nature, and so common to a state of peace,
prosperity, and conscious strength, were, for the time, in a great
measure smothered and rendered inactive; while the deep-rooted
principles of hate, and the powerful motive of revenge, instead of
being turned against each other, were directed exclusively against
the British nation. And thus, from the force of circumstances, the
basest principles of our nature, were either made to lie dormant, or
to become the active agents in the advancement of the noblest
cause--that of establishing and maintaining civil and religious
liberty.
But this state of feeling must fade, is fading, has faded, with the
circumstances that produced it.
I do not mean to say, that the scenes of the revolution are now or
ever will be entirely forgotten; but that like every thing else, they
must fade upon the memory of the world, and grow more and more
dim by the lapse of time. In history, we hope, they will be read of,
and recounted, so long as the bible shall be read;-- but even
granting that they will, their influence cannot be what it heretofore
has been. Even then, they cannot be so universally known, nor so
vividly felt, as they were by the generation just gone to rest. At the
close of that struggle, nearly every adult male had been a
participator in some of its scenes. The consequence was, that of
those scenes, in the form of a husband, a father, a son or brother, a
living history was to be found in every family-- a history bearing
the indubitable testimonies of its own authenticity, in the limbs
mangled, in the scars of wounds received, in the midst of the very
scenes related--a history, too, that could be read and understood
alike by all, the wise and the ignorant, the learned and the
unlearned.--But those histories are gone. They can be read no
more forever. They were a fortress of strength; but, what invading
foeman could never do, the silent artillery of time has done; the
leveling of its walls. They are gone.--They were a forest of giant
oaks; but the all-resistless hurricane has swept over them, and left
only, here and there, a lonely trunk, despoiled of its verdure, shorn
of its foliage; unshading and unshaded, to murmur in a few gentle
breezes, and to combat with its mutilated limbs, a few more ruder
storms, then to sink, and be no more.
They were the pillars of the temple of liberty; and now, that they
have crumbled away, that temple must fall, unless we, their
descendants, supply their places with other pillars, hewn from the
solid quarry of sober reason. Passion has helped us; but can do so
no more. It will in future be our enemy. Reason, cold, calculating,
unimpassioned reason, must furnish all the materials for our future
support and defence.--Let those materials be moulded into general
intelligence, sound morality, and in particular, a reverence for the
constitution and laws: and, that we improved to the last; that we
remained free to the last; that we revered his name to the last;
that, during his long sleep, we permitted no hostile foot to pass
over or desecrate his resting place; shall be that which to learn the
last trump shall awaken our WASHINGTON.
Upon these let the proud fabric of freedom rest, as the rock of its
basis; and as truly as has been said of the only greater institution,
"the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."
Source: The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, edited by Roy P.
Basler.