In the first place, I say the whole thing is a mistake.  That there is a certain relation between capital and labour, I admit.  That it does exist, and rightfully exist, I think is true.  That men who are industrious and sober and honest in the pursuit of their own interests should after a while accumulate capital, and after that should be allowed to enjoy it in peace, and also if they should choose, when they have accumulated it, to use it to save themselves from actual labour, and hire other people to labour for them,—­is right.  In doing so, they do not wrong the man they employ, for they find men who have not their own land to work upon, or shops to work in, and who are benefited by working for others,—­hired labourers, receiving their capital for it.  Thus a few men that own capital hire a few others, and these establish the relation of capital and labour rightfully—­a relation of which I make no complaint.  But I insist that that relation, after all, does not embrace more than one-eighth of the labour of the country.

There are a plenty of men in the slave States that are altogether good enough for me, to be either President or Vice-President, provided they will profess their sympathy with our purpose, and will place themselves on such ground that our men upon principle can vote for them.  There are scores of them—­good men in their character for intelligence, for talent and integrity.  If such an one will place himself upon the right ground, I am for his occupying one place upon the next Republican or opposition ticket.  I will go heartily for him.  But unless he does so place himself, I think it is perfect nonsense to attempt to bring about a union upon any other basis; that if a union be made, the elements will so scatter that there can be no success for such a ticket.  The good old maxims of the Bible are applicable, and truly applicable, to human affairs; and in this, as in other things, we may say that he who is not for us is against us; he who gathereth not with us, scattereth.  I should be glad to have some of the many good and able and noble men of the South place themselves where we can confer upon them the high honour of an election upon one or the other end of our ticket.  It would do my soul good to do that thing.  It would enable us to teach them that inasmuch as we select one of their own number to carry out our principles, we are free from the charge that we mean more than we say....

From a Letter to J.W.  Fell.  December 20, 1859

I was born February 12, 1809, in Hardin County, Kentucky.  My parents were both born in Virginia, of undistinguished families—­second families, perhaps I should say.  My mother, who died in my tenth year, was of a family of the name of Hanks, some of whom now reside in Adams, and others in Macon County, Illinois.  My paternal grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, emigrated from Rockingham County, Virginia, to Kentucky about 1781 or 1782, where a year or two later he was killed by the Indians, not in battle, but by stealth, when he was labouring to open a farm in the forest.  His ancestors, who were Quakers, went to Virginia from Berks County, Pennsylvania.  An effort to identify them with the New England family of the same name ended in nothing more definite than a similarity of Christian names in both families, such as Enoch, Levi, Mordecai, Solomon, Abraham, and the like.