n expressed now remain unchanged, nor have I much to add.
None are so deeply interested to resist the present rebellion as the
working people. Let them beware of prejudices, working division and
hostility among themselves. The most notable feature of a disturbance
in your city last summer was the hanging of some working people by
other working people. It should never be so. The strongest bond of
human sympathy outside of the family relation, should be one uniting all
working people, of all nations, and tongues, and kindreds. Nor should
this lead to a war upon property, or the owners of property. Property
is the fruit of labor; property is desirable; is a positive good in the
world. That some should be rich shows that others may become rich, and
hence is just encouragement to industry and enterprise. Let not him who
is houseless pull down the house of another, but let him work diligently
and build one for himself, thus by example assuming that his own shall
be safe from violence when built."(8)

Lincoln was never more anxious than in this fateful spring when so many
issues were hanging in the balance. Nevertheless, in all his relations
with the world, his firm serenity was not broken. Though subject to
depression so deep that his associates could not penetrate it, he kept
it sternly to himself.(9) He showed the world a lighter, more graceful
aspect than ever before. 'A precious record of his later mood is the
account of him set down by Frank B. Carpenter, the portrait painter, a
man of note in his day, who was an inmate of the White House during the
first half of 1864. Carpenter was painting a picture of the "Signing of
the Emancipation Proclamation." He saw Lincoln informally at all sorts
of odd times, under all sorts of conditions. "All familiar with him,"
says Carpenter, "will remember the weary air which became habitual
during his last years. This was more of the mind than of the body, and
no rest and recreation which he allowed himself could relieve it. As
he sometimes expressed it, 'no remedy seemed ever to reach the tired
spot."(10)

A great shadow was darkening over him. He was more than ever convinced
that he had not long to live. None the less, his poise became more
conspicuous, his command over himself and others more distinguished,
as the months raced past. In truth he had worked through a slow but
profound transformation. The Lincoln of 1864 was so far removed from the
Lincoln of Pigeon Creek-but logically,