Your search returned 225 results in 67 document sections:

Francis B. Carpenter, Six Months at the White House, L. (search)
n these words: And I desire also to add to what I have said, that there is one association whose object and motives I have never heard in any degree impugned or questioned; and that is the Christian Commission. And in these days of villany, as Shakspeare says, that is a record, gentlemen, of which you may justly be proud! Upon the conclusion of the ceremony, he added, in a conversational tone, I believe, however, it is old Jack Falstaff who talks about villany, though of course Shakspeare is rShakspeare is responsible. After the customary hand-shaking, which followed, several gentlemen came forward and asked the President for his autograph. One of them gave his name as Cruikshank. That reminds me, said Mr. Lincoln, of what I used to be called when a young man--long-shanks. Hereupon the rest of the party, emboldened by the success of the few, crowded around the desk, and the President good naturedly wrote his name for each; the scene suggesting forcibly to my mind a country schoolmaster's wee
Francis B. Carpenter, Six Months at the White House, LXXIX. (search)
not been seen by his various biographers; or, if seen, they have failed wofully to give it that prominence which it deserves. It is said that Newton saw an apple fall to the ground from a tree, and beheld the law of the universe in that fall; Shakspeare saw human nature in the laugh of a man; Professor Owen saw the animal in its claw; and Spencer saw the evolution of the universe in the growth of a seed. Nature was suggestive to all these men. Mr. Lincoln no less saw philosophy in a story, anatter is that Mr. Lincoln read less and thought more than any man in his sphere in America. No man can put his finger on any great book written in the last or present century that he read. When young he read the Bible, and when of age he read Shakspeare. This latter book was scarcely ever out of his mind. Mr. Lincoln is acknowledged to have been a great man, but the question is what made him great. I repeat, that he read less and thought more than any man of his standing in America, if not
Francis B. Carpenter, Six Months at the White House, Index. (search)
tarr, 228. Knox, William, (Poet,) 60. L. Lincoln, Hon. G. B., of Brooklyn, 110, 113, 234. Lincoln, Mrs. 165, 293, 301. Lincoln, President, account of Emancipation Proclamation, 20, 76, 83, 85, 90, 269, 307; his sadness, 30; love of Shakspeare, 49; memory, 52; appreciation of poetry, 59; Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud? 60; opinion concerning Assassination, 62: Latin quotation, 78: exceptionable stories, 80; on Wall Street gold speculators. 84; closing sentence, 89;etary, 22, 69, 223, 242; on Clay and Webster, 71; on Equestrian Statues, 71; on Emancipation, 72; on Mr. Lincoln, 81; Seward and Lincoln, 290; the last interview, 290; first knowledge of the President's death, 291. Seymour, General, 48. Shakspeare, 49, 115, 150, 162. Shannon, Hon., Thomas, 147, 148. Sherman, General, 233. Shields and Lincoln, 302. Simmons, Pollard, 111. Sinclair, 16, 48. Sizer, Nelson, 134. Slave Map, 215. Smith, Franklin W., 259. Sojourner truth, 201-
Benson J. Lossing, Pictorial Field Book of the Civil War. Volume 1., Chapter 3: assembling of Congress.--the President's Message. (search)
aration of war is made, the State of which I am a citizen will be found ready and quite willing to meet it. While we remain here, acting as embassadors of Sovereign States, at least under the form of friendship, held together by an alliance as close as it is possible for Sovereign States to stand to each other, threats from one to the other seem to be wholly inappropriate. Wigfall, of Texas, a truculent debater, of ability and ready speech, of whom it might have been truthfully said, in Shakspeare's words:-- Here's a large mouth, indeed, That spits forth death, and mountains, rocks, and seas; Talks as familiarly of roaring lions As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs, did not seem to agree with the cautious, wily, and polished Mississippi Senator. Louis T. Wigfall. After declaring that State after State would soon leave the Union, and that, so far as he was concerned,, he chose not to give a reason for the high sovereign act, he said, Now, Sir, I admit that a constitutional
ering of disagreeable questions. No, massa, --a long chuckle--I'd not like to be free. In de North, de free colored pop'lation isn't able to get ‘long widout eating one anoder. Who told you that? I inquired. De masters of de ships from dar. (He was a stevedore.) You would n't like to be free, eh? I replied, in a jovial tone, as I poked him in the ribs, what a lying scamp you are, old fellow! Hardly had I done so, before I had a realizing experience of the profundity of Shakspeare's philosophy: One dig ia th‘ ribs, good, my lord, Makes white and colored men akin. Julius Caesar Hannibal's edition. He threw off his dissimulation, dismissed his grins and his chuckles, looked grave, and said, Well, massa, you's a funny man — dat am a fact. I's would like to be free; but it's no use, massa-it's no use. I's a slave, and I's been one sixty years, and I ‘specs to die in bondage. Do all the colored people you know want to be free? Oh, yes, massa, he s
aracter of Grant's strategy, and had himself, with a part of his force, moved southward to the help of Lee at Petersburg. Weitzel, however, persisted in speaking daggers, but using none; and, throughout the memorable Sunday evening of the Rebel Hegira, though his guns were silent, his bands were vocal far into the night, treating our friends behind the opposite intrenchments with variations and iterations of Hail Columbia, Yankee Doodle, and The star-spangled Banner, in utter disregard of Shakspeare's dictum averring a natural antagonism between Treason and Melody. No one on our side seems to have suspected that the Rebel soldiery were even then stealthily withdrawing from their works in our front, preparatory to hastening after their comrades who had already filed hurriedly and dolefully out of the opposite portals of Richmond. At length, our musicians having played the soldiers to sleep, had themselves sunk also to rest, when, about 2 A. M., Monday, April 3. Weitzel, still al
nge! its claims you urge, Send greetings to it o'er the surge, And comfort and protect it. But yesterday you scarce could Shake, In slave-abhorring rigor, Our Northern palms, for conscience‘ sake; To-day you clasp the hands that ache With “wallopping the nigger!” See English caricatures of America — Slaveholder and cowhide, with the motto: “Haven't I a right to wallop my nigger!” O Englishmen!--in hope and creed, In blood and tongue our brothers I We, too, are heirs of Runnymede; And Shakspeare's fame and Cromwell's deed, Are not alone our mother's. “Thicker than water,” in one rill, Through centuries of story, Our Saxon blood has flowed, and still We share with you its good and ill, The shadow and the glory. Joint heirs and kinfolk, leagues of wave Nor length of years can part us: Your right is ours to shrine and grave, The common freehold of the brave, The gifts of saints and martyrs. Our very sins and follies teach Our kindred frail and human: We carp at faults with
A Methodist minister has invented a double-chambered shell, the inner containing powder, and the outer a composition intensely inflammatory and explosive, which, when the shell bursts, consumes everything it falls upon. It is said to be a very destructive engine, and the clerical inventor is reported to have remarked, while explaining his invention at the department at Washington: Faith, sir, I preached hellfire and brimstone in the abstract a long time, and now I'll give 'em a little of it in the concrete form. The name of the pugnacious minister is Puffer — but, as Shakspeare says: What's in a name? Louisville Journal, March 6
e little profit that the West can make! The tariff — fixed precisely as they want it, The markets to secure, sans competition-- May drain our pockets; but they only vaunt it A happy trick, and laugh at our position. Though poverty the Western home may haunt, it May not invade the home of Abolition! The land in other parts howe'er distrest-- New-England yet will “feather her own nest.” But they did err in choice of modes for righting All wrongs; they chose secession and then fighting! But Shakspeare, prince of poets, hap'ly says “Vaulting ambition doth o'erleap itself,” And even New-England may see other days, When ruined hopes another tale will tell. “Curses come home to roost” --and wicked ways Have retribution, when deserved so well. She's gloating now o'er distant desolation, But yet may sadly mourn a ruined nation. She madly fanned the fires that glow in war, She “bravoed” when a negro used his legs; But blind in bigotry — the South to mar, She kills the hen tha
of ice, are probably the very same which we have experienced. Each of our senses has carried its report to the brain by that faithful electricity of the nerves in which you now rejoice. Your minds, too, though enriched by superior cultivation, have attributes in common with ours. You delight to read the poems of Homer and Virgil, and repeat the orations of Demosthenes and Cicero ; you sometimes tire amid the sublimities of Milton, and love to see man and Nature lay their treasures at Shakspeare's feet. And here let us say, that your classic approbation and noble fire do not probably differ much from ours. In the sweep of centuries, the heart changes less than the head. You feel indignant at the abuse of power and the triumph of wrong, at the sight of ingratitude and the thirst for revenge; while your whole soul melts with sympathy at the sight of suffering, and leaps with thanksgiving to perform the office of the good Samaritan. Your love of country is as strong as it is no