’You work, and toil, and earn bread, and I’ll eat it.’  No matter in what shape it comes, whether from the mouth of a king who seeks to bestride the people of his own nation and live by the fruit of their labor, or from one race of men as an apology for enslaving another race, it is the same tyrannical principle.

On still another occasion he used these unmistakable words: 

My declarations upon this subject of negro slavery may be misrepresented, but cannot be misunderstood.  I have said that I do not understand the Declaration to mean that all men were created equal in all respects.  They are not our equal in color.  But I suppose that it does mean to declare that all men are created equal in some respects; they are equal in their right to ‘life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.’  Certainly the negro is not our equal in color, perhaps not in many other respects; still, in the right to put into his mouth the bread that his own hands have earned, he is the equal of every other man, white or black.

It is not in the scope of this narrative to print extended quotations from the speeches made in this memorable contest, but rather to give such reminiscences and anecdotes, and description by eye-witnesses, as will best serve to bring the scenes and actors vividly to mind.  Fortunately, many such records are still in existence, and from them some most entertaining personal accounts have been obtained.  Among these is an impressive pen-picture of Lincoln on the stump, as admirably sketched by the Rev. Dr. George C. Noyes, of Chicago.  “Mr. Lincoln in repose,” says Dr. Noyes, “was a very different man in personal appearance from Mr. Lincoln on the platform or on the stump, when his whole nature was roused by his masterful interest in the subject of his discourse.  In the former case he was, as has often been described, a man of awkward and ungainly appearance and exceedingly homely countenance.  In the latter case, he was a man of magnificent presence and remarkably impressive manner.  The writer retains to this day a very vivid impression of his appearance in both these characters, and both on the same day.  It was in Jacksonville, in the summer of 1858, and during the great contest with Douglas, when the prize contended for was a seat in the United States Senate.  The day was warm; the streets were dusty, and filled with great crowds of people.  When Lincoln arrived on the train from Springfield, he was met by an immense procession of people on horseback, in carriages, in wagons and vehicles of every description, and on foot, who escorted him through the principal streets to his hotel.  The enthusiasm of the multitude was great; but Lincoln’s extremely homely face wore an expression of sadness.  He rode in a carriage near the head of the procession, looking dust-begrimed and worn and weary; and though he frequently lifted his hat in recognition of the cheers of the crowds lining the streets, I saw no smile