DIES AND GENTLEMEN:--I have but a moment to stand before you to listen
to and return your kind greeting. I thank you for this reception, and for
the pleasant manner in which it is tendered to me by our mutual friends.
I will say in a single sentence, in regard to the difficulties that lie
before me and our beloved country, that if I can only be as generously and
unanimously sustained as the demonstrations I have witnessed indicate I
shall be, I shall not fail; but without your sustaining hands I am sure
that neither I nor any other man can hope to surmount these difficulties.
I trust that in the course I shall pursue I shall be sustained not only
by the party that elected me, but by the patriotic people of the whole
country.

ADDRESS AT FISHKILL LANDING

FEBRUARY 19, 1861

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN:--I appear before you not to make a speech. I have
not sufficient time, if I had the strength, to repeat speeches at every
station where the people kindly gather to welcome me as we go along. If I
had the strength, and should take the time, I should not get to Washington
until after the inauguration, which you must be aware would not fit
exactly. That such an untoward event might not transpire, I know you will
readily forego any further remarks; and I close by bidding you farewell.

REMARKS AT THE ASTOR HOUSE, NEW YORK CITY, FEBRUARY 19, 1861

FELLOW-CITIZENS:--I have stepped before you merely in compliance with what
appears to be your wish, and not with the purpose of making a speech. I
do not propose making a speech this afternoon. I could not be heard by any
but a small fraction of you, at best; but, what is still worse than that,
I have nothing just now to say that is worthy of your hearing. I beg you
to believe that I do not now refuse to address you from any disposition to
disoblige you, but to the contrary. But, at the same time, I beg of you to
excuse me for the present.

ADDRESS AT NEW YORK CITY,

FEBRUARY 19, 1861

Mr. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN:--I am rather an old man to avail myself of
such an excuse as I am now about to do. Yet the truth is so distinct, and
presses itself so distinctly upon me, that I cannot well avoid it--and
that is, that I did not understand when I was brought into this room that
I was to be brought here to make a speech. It was not intimated to me that
I was brought into the room where Daniel Webster and Henry Clay had made
speeches, and where one in my position might be exp