Your obedient servant,

A. LINCOLN

TO E. D. MORGAN

SPRINGFIELD, ILL.  FEB. 4, 1861

Sir:—­Your letter of the 30th ult. inviting me, on behalf of the Legislature of New York, to pass through that State on my way to Washington, and tendering me the hospitalities of her authorities and people, has been duly received.  With the feelings of deep gratitude to you and them for this testimonial of regard and esteem I beg you to notify them that I accept the invitation so kindly tendered.

Your obedient servant,

A. LINCOLN

P.S.—­Please let the ceremonies be only such as to take the least time possible.  A. L.

PATRONAGE CLAIMS

TO THURLOW WEED

Springfield, ill., February 4, 1861

Dear sir:—­I have both your letter to myself and that to Judge Davis, in relation to a certain gentleman in your State claiming to dispense patronage in my name, and also to be authorized to use my name to advance the chances of Mr. Greeley for an election to the United States Senate.

It is very strange that such things should be said by any one.  The gentleman you mention did speak to me of Mr. Greeley in connection with the senatorial election, and I replied in terms of kindness toward Mr. Greeley, which I really feel, but always with an expressed protest that my name must not be used in the senatorial election in favor of or against any one.  Any other representation of me is a misrepresentation.

As to the matter of dispensing patronage, it perhaps will surprise you to learn that I have information that you claim to have my authority to arrange that matter in New York.  I do not believe you have so claimed; but still so some men say.  On that subject you know all I have said to you is “justice to all,” and I have said nothing more particular to any one.  I say this to reassure you that I have not changed my position.

In the hope, however, that you will not use my name in the matter, I am,

Yours truly,

A. Lincoln.

FAREWELL ADDRESS AT SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS,

FEBRUARY 11, 1861

My friends:—­One who has never been placed in a like position cannot understand my feelings at this hour, nor the oppressive sadness I feel at this parting.  For more than twenty-five years I have lived among you, and during all that time I have received nothing but kindness at your hands.  Here the most cherished ties of earth were assumed.  Here my children were born, and here one of them lies buried.  To you, my friends, I owe all that I have, all that I am.  All the strange checkered