"Chief among them was Owen Lovejoy; and second to him, if second to any, was William H. Herndon. But the position of this latter gentleman was one of singular embarrassment. According to himself, he was an Abolitionist 'some time before he was born,' and hitherto he had made his 'calling and election sure' by every word and act of a life devoted to political philanthropy and disinterested political labors. While the two great national parties divided the suffrages of the people, North and South, everything in his eyes was dead. He detested the bargains by which those parties were in the habit of composing sectional troubles, and sacrificing the principle of freedom. When the Whig party paid its breath to time, he looked upon its last agonies as but another instance of divine retribution. He had no patience with time-servers, and regarded with indignant contempt the policy which would postpone the natural rights of an enslaved race to the success of parties and politicians. He stood by at the sacrifice of the Whig party in Illinois with the spirit of Paul when he held the clothes of them that stoned Stephen. He believed it was for the best, and hoped to see a new party rise in its place, great in the fervor of its faith, and animated by the spirit of Wilberforce, Garrison, and the Lovejoys. He was a fierce zealot, and gloried proudly in his title of 'fanatic;' for it was his conviction that fanatics were at all times the salt of the earth, with power to save it from the blight that follows the wickedness of men. He believed in a God, but it was the God of Nature—the God of Socrates and Plato, as well as the God of Jacob. He believed in a Bible, but it was the open scroll of the universe; and in a religion clear and well defined, but it was a religion that scorned what he deemed the narrow slavery of verbal inspiration. Hot-blooded, impulsive, brave, morally and physically, careless of consequences when moved by a sense of individual duty, he was the very man to receive into his inmost heart the precepts of Mr. Seward's 'higher law'" (Life of Lincoln, pp. 350, 351).
His literary abilities, both as a speaker and as a writer, were of a high order. He had written a meritorious work on Mental Philosophy, and a "Life of Lincoln," which had just been published when he died. In addition to numerous addresses upon historical, economical, and other subjects he prepared and delivered several able and interesting lectures on Lincoln: "Abraham Lincoln and Ann Rutledge," a beautiful and touching representation of that pathetic and romantic love episode which forms one of the saddest chapters in Lincoln's history; "The Analysis of Lincoln's Character," which appears in the "Lincoln Memorial Album," and "Lincoln's Religion," which was published in the State Register, of Springfield, Ill.
Carpenter, and in fact nearly every writer on Lincoln, has made free use of Herndon's writings. Carpenter declares that his "masterly 'Analysis of Lincoln's Character' has scarcely an equal in the annals of biographical literature." Both Holland and Lamon acknowledge that they were more deeply indebted to him in the preparation of their respective works than to any other person. The Petersburg Democrat, published in Menard county, where Lincoln spent the first years of his manhood, says: "Mr. Herndon was the law partner of Mr. Lincoln from 1843 to 1860, and knew his inner life better than any other man." The Sangamon county Monitor, of Springfield, where Lincoln lived for a quarter of a century, says: "Herndon knew Lincoln's views better than any man in America." Judge David Davis, the lifelong friend of Lincoln, in whose court both Lincoln and Herndon practiced for years, declared that Herndon knew more about Lincoln's religion than any other man.
In this chapter will be reproduced the evidence of Mr. Herndon that has already been made public.
The first elaborate exposition of Lincoln's Free-thought views was made in 1870, in what is known as the "Abbott Letter," an article which Mr. Herndon by request contributed to the Index, a paper then published at Toledo, O., and edited by Francis E. Abbott. The article was extensively copied and commented upon, and produced a profound sensation in the religious world, which, to a great extent, had been misled by such writers as Holland. The first and more important part of Mr. Herndon's article will now be presented:
"Mr. Abbott: Some time since I promised you that I would send a letter in relation to Mr. Lincoln's religion. I do so now. Before entering on that question, one or two preliminary remarks will help us to understand why he disagreed with the Christian world in its principles as well as in its theology. In the first place, Mr. Lincoln's mind was a purely logical mind; secondly, Mr. Lincoln was a purely practical man. He had no fancy or imagination, and not much emotion. He was a realist as opposed to an idealist. As a general rule, it is true that a purely logical mind has not much hope, if it ever has faith in the unseen and unknown. Mr. Lincoln had not much hope and no faith in things that lie outside of the domain of demonstration; he was so constituted, so organized, that he could believe nothing unless his senses or logic could reach it. I have often read to him a law point, a decision, or something I fancied. He could not understand it until he took the book out of my hand, and read the thing for himself. He was terribly, vexatiously skeptical. He could scarcely understand anything, unless he had time and place fixed in his mind.
"I became acquainted with Mr. Lincoln in 1834, and I think I knew him well to the day of his death. His mind, when a boy in Kentucky, showed a certain gloom, an unsocial nature, a peculiar abstractedness, a bold and daring skepticism. In Indiana, from 1817 to 1830, it manifested the same qualities or attributes as in Kentucky: it only intensified, developed itself, along those lines in Indiana. He came to Illinois in 1830, and, after some little roving, settled in New Salem, now in Menard county and state of Illinois. This village lies about twenty miles northwest of this city. It was here that Mr. Lincoln became acquainted with a class of men the world never saw the like of before or since. They were large men—large in body and large in mind; hard to whip and never to be fooled. They were a bold, daring, and reckless sort of men; they were men of their own minds—believed what was demonstrable; were men of great common sense. With these men Mr. Lincoln was thrown; with them he lived, and with them he moved and almost had his being. They were skeptics all—scoffers some. These scoffers were good men, and their scoffs were protests against theology—loud protests against the follies of Christianity. They had never heard of Theism and the newer and better religious thoughts of this age. Hence, being natural skeptics, and being bold, brave men, they uttered their thoughts freely. They declared that Jesus was an illegitimate child. They were on all occasions, when opportunity offered, debating the various questions of Christianity among themselves. They took their stand on common sense and on their own souls; and, though their arguments were rude and rough, no man could overthrow their homely logic. They riddled all divines, and not unfrequently made them skeptics, disbelievers as bad as themselves. They were a jovial, healthful, generous, social, true, and manly set of people. It was here and among these people that Mr. Lincoln was thrown. About the year 1834 he chanced to come across Volney's 'Ruins' and some of Paine's theological works. He at once seized hold of them, and assimilated them into his own being. Volney and Paine became a part of Mr. Lincoln from 1834 to the end of his life. "In 1835 he wrote out a small work on Infidelity, and intended to have it published. This book was an attack upon the whole grounds of Christianity, and especially was it an attack upon the idea that Jesus was the Christ, the true and only-begotten son of God, as the Christian world contends. Mr. Lincoln was at that time in New Salem, keeping store for Mr. Samuel Hill, a merchant and postmaster of that place. Lincoln and Hill were very friendly. Hill, I think, was a skeptic at this time. Lincoln, one day after the book was finished, read it to Mr. Hill, his good friend. Hill tried to persuade him not to make it public, not to publish it. Hill at that time saw in Mr. Lincoln a rising man, and wished him success. Lincoln refused to destroy it—said it should be published. Hill swore it should never see light of day. He had an eye on Lincoln's popularity—his present and future success; and believing that if the book was published it would kill Lincoln forever, he snatched it from Lincoln's hand when Lincoln was not expecting it, and ran it into an old-fashioned tinplate stove, heated as hot as a furnace; and so Lincoln's book went up to the clouds in smoke. It is confessed by all who heard parts of it that it was at once able and eloquent; and, if I may judge of it from Mr. Lincoln's subsequent ideas and opinions, often expressed to me and to others in my presence, it was able, strong, plain, and fair. His argument was grounded on the internal mistakes of the Old and New Testaments, and on reason and on the experiences and observations of men. The criticisms from internal defects were sharp, strong, and manly.
"Mr. Lincoln moved to this city in 1837, and here became acquainted with various men of his own way of thinking. At that time they called themselves Freethinkers, or free thinking men. I remember all these things distinctly; for I was with them, heard them, and was one of them. Mr. Lincoln here found other works—Hume, Gibbon, and others—and drank them in. He made no secret of his views; no concealment of his religion. He boldly avowed himself an Infidel.
"When Mr. Lincoln was a candidate for our Legislature, he was accused of being an Infidel and of having said that Jesus Christ was an illegitimate child. He never denied his opinions nor flinched from his religious views. He was a true man, and yet it may be truthfully said that in 1837 his religion was low indeed. In his moments of gloom he would doubt, if he did not sometimes deny, God.
"Mr. Lincoln ran for Congress against the Rev. Peter Cartwright in the year 1846. In that contest he was accused of being an Infidel, if not an Atheist. He never denied the charge—would not—'would die first.' In the first place, because he knew it could and would be proved on him; and in the second place, he was too true to his own convictions, to his own soul, to deny it.