Abraham Lincoln: Was He a Christian?

by John E. Remsburg

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.