and inspired at that.
From that day to the day of his death he stood firm in the right.
He felt his great cross, had his great idea, nursed it, kept it, taught it to others, in his fidelity bore witness of it to his death, and finally sealed it with his precious blood.”
The foregoing paragraph, used by me in a lecture in 1866, may to the average reader seem somewhat vivid in description, besides inclining to extravagance in imagery, yet although more than twenty years have passed since it was written I have never seen the need of altering a single sentence.
I still adhere to the substantial truthfulness of the scene as described.
's speech was never written out nor printed, and we are obliged to depend for its reproduction upon personal recollection.
convention and the part Lincoln
took in it met no such hearty response in Springfield
as we hoped would follow.
It fell flat, and in Lincoln
's case drove from him many persons who had heretofore been his warm political friends.
A few days after our return we announced a meeting at the court-house to ratify the action of the Bloomington convention.
After the usual efforts to draw a crowd, however, only three persons had temerity enough to attend.
They were Lincoln
, the writer, and a courageous man named John Pain.
, in answer to the “deafening calls” for a speech, responded that the meeting was larger than he knew
it would be, and that while he knew that he himself and his partner would attend he was not sure anyone else would, and yet another