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The Nasby Letters are now collected in a beautiful
volume, and the publishers have invited me to write
an Introduction. It can be only a word.

Beyond the interest in these letters as another
instance of a peculiar literature, — illustrated by
Major Jack Downing, Sam Slick, and the genius of
Hosea Biglow, — they have an historic character from
the part they performed in the war with slavery, and
in advancing reconstruction. Appearing with a certain
regularity and enjoying an extensive circulation, they
became a constant and welcome ally. Unquestionably
they were among the influences and agencies by
which disloyalty in all its forms was exposed, and
public opinion assured on the right side. It is impossible
to measure their value. Against the devices
of slavery and its supporters, each letter was like
a speech, or one of those songs which stir the

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people. Therefore they belong to the political history
of this critical period.

Of publications during the war, none had such
charm for Abraham Lincoln. He read every letter
as it appeared, and kept them all within reach for
refreshment. This strong liking illustrates his character,
and will always awaken an interest in the letters.
An incident in my own relations with him shows
how easily he turned from care to humor.

I had occasion to see President Lincoln very late
in the evening of March 17th, 1865. The interview
was in the familiar room known as his office, and
also used for cabinet meetings. I did not take leave
of him until some time after midnight, and then
the business was not entirely finished. As I rose,
he said, “Come to me when I open shop in the
morning; I will have the order written, and you
shall see it.” “When do you open shop?” said I.
“At nine o'clock,” he replied. At the hour named
I was in the same room that I had so recently
left. Very soon the President entered, stepping
quickly with the promised order in his hands,
which he at once read to me. It was to disapprove
and annul the judgment and sentence of a

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courtmartial in a case that had excited much feeling.
While I was making an abstract of the order for
communication by telegraph to the anxious parties,
he broke into quotation from Nasby. Finding me
less at home than himself with his favorite humorist,
he said pleasantly, “I must initiate you,” and then
repeated with enthusiasm the message he had sent to
the author: “For the genius to write these things I
would gladly give up my office.”

Rising from his seat, he opened a desk behind, and,
taking from it a pamphlet collection of the letters
already published, proceeded to read from it with
infinite zest, while his melancholy features grew bright.
It was a delight to see him surrender so completely
to the fascination. Finding that I listened, he read
for more than twenty minutes, and was still proceeding,
when it occurred to me that there must be many
at the door waiting to see him on graver matters.
Taking advantage of a pause, I rose, and, thanking
him for the lesson of the morning, went away. Some
thirty persons, including senators and representatives,
were in the ante-chamber as I passed out.

Though with the President much during the intervening
time before his death, this was the last business

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I transacted with him. A few days later he left
Washington for City Point, on the James River, where
he was at the surrender of Richmond. April 6th I
joined him there. April 9th the party returned to
Washington. On the evening of April 14th the bullet
of an assassin took his life.

In this simple story Abraham Lincoln introduces
Nasby.