A few months prior to his death our father undertook the preparation of his Autobiography. This was earnestly encouraged by his family, who shared with the public the desire that he should tell the tale of his life in his own words, giving those pictures of his inner self, the impressions made on him by his varying experiences, that he alone could give, and which, to a large extent, he alone knew. Confiding and free-spoken as he was in his joys, in his griefs he withdrew within himself, bearing in patient silence a load of sorrow unknown even to those nearest to him. But it was not to be. He had only jotted down a rough outline of his plan, and written a part of an intermediate chapter, when he laid down his pen for a little rest, never to be resumed again.

In his contract with our publishers but a single volume of not less than six hundred pages was contemplated. Unconscious of its magnitude, we undertook to complete the contract. Accepting the limitations of a single volume, we began to collect the necessary material, and, when too late to change the form of the work, discovered that two volumes would hardly contain the history as it opened up to us, so closely interwoven has his life been with the nation’s history, and so full of important incidents. In the work of condensation, to bring our story within the space prescribed, we found it necessary to omit many of his letters, hoping that in the not far-distant future we might publish a supplemental volume containing all of his important correspondence.

The book before us we have sought, as far as possible, to make autobiographic, telling the tale in our father’s words; happily the many letters furnished us by friends, or retained in the family, his public writings and utterances, supplemented by the many personal reminiscences which he gave us at various times, has enabled us to do so to a large extent.

We are fully conscious of the imperfect manner in which we have woven these quotations into our story; the ordinary writer who attempts to connect with his words those glowing sentences white-hot with his fiery indignation against slavery, or his eloquent appeal to the English public for fair-dealing, or the brilliant play of wit and fancy in his more humorous utterances, can hope, at the most, to give but a respectable background that may aid by contrast.

We have sought to make this book a truthful history from the beginnings of his life, through boyhood, manhood, and ripened age, to the end, omitting no important period, though passing innumerable incidents.

A man loving peace, he reached peace only through war. From his early manhood he was called to meet in deadly combat the great sins of the nation. Through his life, at different times, he met and overcame bitter and deadly assaults made upon him.

In our narration of these events we have had no revenge to gratify nor theory to maintain. We have tried to give only facts, omitting deductions or conclusions, leaving each reader to draw his own inferences. If parts of our narrative bear hardly on any, it is only the pressure of the facts which cannot be suppressed in any fearless, truthful portrayal of our father’s life. We do not make them; we merely state them.

We would acknowledge our indebtedness to the many friends who have kindly furnished letters and reminiscences, but especially to our mother, whose memory, running back along the paths they travelled for so many years together, has given to us much that never would otherwise have been known.

If our readers get from a perusal of these pages a tithe of the comfort and inspiration which we have obtained from their preparation, we shall feel that our work has not been in vain.

If they can see something of the fearlessness for right, the patience under unjust suffering, the inextinguishable love for fellow-men, and the abiding faith in God, that has been revealed by a study of his life even to us, who knew him best, we shall be satisfied.

Brooklyn, March 12, 1888.