They believe that the Congress of the United States has no power under the Constitution to interfere with the institution of slavery in the different States. They believe that the Congress of the United States has the power, under the Constitution, to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, but that the power ought not to be exercised, unless at the request of the people of the District. The difference between these opinions and those contained in the said resolutions is their reason for entering this protest. Dan Stone, A. Lincoln, (Representatives from the County of Sangamon.) April 1st. New Salem. After my return home from the Legislature I saw nothing to change my opinion of Mary Owens in any particular. She was the same, and so was I. I now spent my time in planning how I might get along in life after my contemplated change in circumstances should have taken place, and how I might procrastinate the evil day for a time, which I really dreaded as much, perhaps more, than an Irishman does the halter. 15th. Removed to Springfield, and commenced the practise of law-my old friend Stuart taking me into partnership. (To Joshua Speed, of whom Lincoln had asked credit on coming to Springfield to live.) If I fail in this (attempt to practise law) I do not know that I can ever pay you. (Speed, thinking he has never seen a sadder face: You seem to be so much pained at contracting so small a debt, I think I can suggest a plan by which you can avoid the debt, and at the same time attain your end. I have a large room with a double bed upstairs, which you are very welcome to share with me.) (Lincoln): Where is your room? (After taking his saddlebags upstairs and coming down, his face beaming with pleasure.) Well Speed, I'm moved. (To Miss Mary Owens.) I have commenced two letters to send you before this, both of which displeased me before I got half done, and so I tore them up. The first I thought was not serious enough, and the second was on the other extreme. I shall send this, turn out as it may. This thing of living in Springfield is rather a dull business, after all; at least it is to me. I am quite as lonesome here as I ever was anywhere in my life. I have been spoken to by but one woman since I have been here, and should not have been by her if she could have avoided it. I've never been to church, and probably shall not be soon. I stay away because I am conscious I should not know how to behave myself. I am often thinking of what we said about your coming to live at Springfield. I am afraid you would not be satisfied. There is a great deal of flourishing about in carriages here, which it would be your doom to see without sharing it. You would have to be poor, without the means of hiding your poverty. Do you believe you could bear that patiently? Whatever woman may cast her lot with mine, should any ever do so, it is my intention to do all in my power to make her happy and contented; and there is nothing I can imagine that would make me more unhappy than to fail in the effort. I know I should be much happier with you than the way I am, provided I saw no signs of discontent in you. What you have said to me may have been in the way of jest, or I may have misunderstood it. If so, then let it be forgotten; if otherwise, I much wish you would think seriously before you decide. What I have said I will most positively abide by, provided you wish it. My opinion is that you had better not do it. You have not been accustomed to hardship, and it may be more severe than you now imagine. I know you are capable of thinking correctly on any subject, and, if you deliberate maturely upon this before you decide, then I am willing to abide your decision. You must write me a good long letter after you get this. You have nothing else to do, and though it might not seem interesting to you after you had written it, it would be a good deal of company to me in this "busy wilderness." Tell your sister I don't want to hear any more about selling out and moving. That gives me the hypo whenever I think of it. August 16th. (To Miss Mary Owens.) You will no doubt think it rather strange that I should write you a letter on the same day on which we parted; and I can only account for it by supposing that seeing you lately makes me think of you more than usual; while at our late meeting we had but few expressions of thoughts. You must know that I can not see you or think of you with entire indifference; and yet it may be that you are mistaken in regard to what my real feelings toward you are. If I knew you were not, I should not trouble you with this letter. Perhaps any other man would know enough without further information; but I consider it my peculiar right to plead ignorance, and your bounden duty to allow the plea. I want in all cases to do right, and most particularly so in all cases with women. I want, at this particular time, more than anything else, to do right with you; and if I knew it would be doing right, as I rather suspect it would, to let you alone, I would do it. And, for the purpose of making the matter as plain as possible, I now say that you can drop the subject, dismiss your thoughts (if you ever had any) from me forever, and leave this letter unanswered, without calling forth one accusing murmur from me. And I will even go further, and say, that, if it will add anything to your comfort or peace of 25 mind to do so, it is my sincere wish that you should. Do not understand that I wish to cut your acquaintance. I mean no such thing. What I do wish is that our further acquaintance shall depend upon yourself. If such further acquaintance would contribute nothing to your happiness, I am sure it would not to mine. If you feel yourself in any degree bound to me, I am now willing to release you, provided you wish it; while, on the other hand, I am willing and even anxious to bind you faster, if I can be convinced that it will, in any considerable degree, add to your happiness. This, indeed, is the whole question with me. Nothing would make me more miserable than to believe you miserable-nothing more happy than to know you were so. In what I have now said, I think I can not be misunderstood; and to make myself understood is the only object of this letter. If it suits you best not to answer this, farewell. A long life and a merry one attend you. But if you conclude to write back, speak as plainly as I do. There can be neither harm nor danger in saying to me anything you think, just in the manner you think it. Again his sarcastic bent is displayed. October 28th. (Denunciation of a political enemy.) General Adams' publications and outdoor maneuvering taken in connection with the editorial articles of the Republican, are not more foolish and contradictory than they are ludicrous and amusing. One week the Republican notifies the public that General Adams is preparing an instrument that will tear, rend, split, rive, blow up, confound, overwhelm, annihilate, extinguish, exterminate, burst asunder and grind to powder all its slanderers, and particularly Talbott and Lincoln-all of which is to be done in due time. Then for two or three weeks all is calm-not a word said. Again the Republican comes forth with a mere passing remark that "Public opinion has decided in favor of General Adams," and intimates that he will give himself no more trouble about the matter. In the meantime Adams himself is prowling about, and as Burns says of the Devil, "For prey, a' holes and corners tryin'," and in one instance, goes so far as to take an old acquaintance of mine several steps from a crowd and apparently weighed down with the importance of his business, gravely and solemnly asks him if "he ever heard Lincoln say he was a deist." Anon the Republican comes again, "We invite the attention of the public to General Adams' communication," &c., "The victory is a great one," "The triumph is overwhelming." (I really believe the editor of the Illinois Republican is fool enough to think General Adams is an honest man.) Then General Adams leads off-"Authors most egregiously mistaken," &c.,-"most wofully shall their presumption be punished," &c., (Lord, have mercy on us.) "The hour is yet to come, yea nigh at hand-(how long first do you reckon?)—when the Journal and its junto shall say, I have appeared too early."-"Then infamy shall be laid bare to the public gaze." Suddenly the General appears to relent at the severity with which he is treating us and he exclaims, "The condemnation of my enemies is the inevitable result of my own defense." For your health's sake, dear General, do not permit your tenderness of heart to afflict you so much on our account. For some reason (perhaps because we are killed so quickly) we shall never be sensible of our suffering. Finally breaks with Mary Owens. Autumn. (To Mrs. O. H. Browning.) After all my suffering upon this deeply interesting subject, here I am, wholly, unexpectedly, completely out of "the scrape"; and I now want to know if you can guess how I got out of it-out, clear, in |