Jot or tittle; the plain unvarnished truth; God forbid; the jackal press; that memorable occasion; tooth and nail; the God of our fathers; the awful horrors of Valley Forge; the blood-stained heights of Yorktown; tell it not in Gath; proclaim it not in the streets of Askalon; peace with honor; the Arabian Nights; Munchausen; the fathers; our globe-encircling domain; I am a Democrat; the pirates of the Barbary Coast; Democratic gospel pure and undefiled; Janus-faced double; Good Lord, good devil; all things to all men; God-fearing patriots; come what may; all things are fair in love or war; the silken bowstring; the unwary voter; bait to catch gudgeons; to live by or to die by; these obsequious courtiers; Guttenburg; rubber stamp; at all hazards; the most unkindest cut of all.

With the artificiality, the stiltedness of the foregoing contrast the simplicity, the sincerity of these two extracts from Abraham Lincoln.

    And now, if they would listen—­as I suppose they will not—­I
    would address a few words to the Southern people.

I would say to them:  You consider yourselves a reasonable and a just people; and I consider that in the general qualities of reason and justice you are not inferior to any other people.  Still, when you speak of us Republicans, you do so only to denounce us as reptiles, or, at the best, as no better than outlaws.  You will grant a hearing to pirates or murderers, but nothing like it to “Black Republicans.”  In all your contentions with one another, each of you deems an unconditional condemnation of “Black Republicanism” as the first thing to be attended to.  Indeed, such condemnation of us seems to be an indispensable prerequisite—­license, so to speak—­among you to be admitted or permitted to speak at all.  Now can you or not be prevailed upon to pause and to consider whether this is quite just to us, or even to yourselves?  Bring forward your charges and specifications, and then be patient long enough to hear us deny or justify.

    Cooper Union Speech, 1860

My Friends:  No one, not in my situation, can appreciate my feeling of sadness at this parting.  To this place, and the kindness of these people, I owe everything.  Here I have lived a quarter of a century, and have passed from a young to an old man.  Here my children have been born, and one is buried.  I now leave, not knowing when or whether ever I may return, with a task before me greater than that which rested upon Washington.  Without the assistance of that Divine Being who ever attended him, I cannot succeed.  With that assistance I cannot fail.  Trusting in Him who can go with me, and remain with you, and be everywhere for good, let us confidently hope that all will yet be well.  To His care commending you, as I hope in your prayers you will commend me, I bid you an affectionate farewell.

    Farewell Address at Springfield, 1861